


Pulling My Weight

by itsthechocopuff



Category: Naruto
Genre: Actual mother-hen Shiranui Genma, BAMF Sakura, Families of Choice, Fix-It, Gen, Humor, I don't have time for Zetsu's bullshit, Mild canon divergence, Sakura realises she shit and actually works to change it, aka eventual genjutsu specialist Sakura, because honestly fuck Kaguya, becomes AU from chapter 25 onwards, essentially what would've happened had the manga actually recognised Sakura's talents early on, mentions of panic attacks and PTSD, mildly self-indulgent, strong!Sakura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:50:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 249,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6737008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsthechocopuff/pseuds/itsthechocopuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During their mission to Wave, Sakura realises how behind she is in her training and decides to do something about it. She vows to become a shinobi her Village and her teammates can respect and depend on. But Sakura has always been a paper-ninja, so her first stop for inspiration is the library where she finds unexpected help in the form of one very bored tokujo who quickly goes on to become an integral part of her life. Soon, despite the neglect of her sensei and all odds seemingly against her, Sakura's destiny begins to change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Realisation

Though her eyes never left the makeshift graves they'd dug for Zabuza and Haku, and her ears dimly registered Naruto's sobs somewhere to her right, Sakura's mind wasn't focused on the tragedy before her, but rather, on the events that had led up to it.

 

It was clear from the moment they'd left the Village and been ambushed by the two rogue ninja that, despite having been in the Academy for the last six years and despite having prepared diligently for becoming a ninja, Sakura was nowhere near ready for what the life of a ninja entailed outside of the safety and comfort of Konohagakure. As her mind wondered to the appearance of the Demon Brothers, she cursed her inattention to her surroundings: she had prided herself on her intelligence, something she had always used against Ino when the blonde had insulted her forehead or less developed figure, but then she had failed to connect the most basic of dots. And it wasn’t even that she hadn’t _noticed_ the glaringly conspicuous puddle, nor that she wasn’t aware that concealment jutsu like the one utilised by the Demon Brothers existed – they had, after all, been on the Academy syllabus. It was that she had dismissed the _first lone puddle since they’d left Konoha when it hadn’t rained for over a week_ in favour of admiring the grace and comfort with which Sasuke-kun had walked despite the fact that he too had never been outside the Village before.

 

_Sasuke-kun…_

 

Her eyes strayed to her crush, to the slight rips in his shirt from where Haku’s senbon had pierced, the scratches on his face and uncovered forearms. She had gotten to hold him after he’d escaped Haku’s dome of mirrors, and her heart had done somersaults despite his damaged condition and the fact that he was barely conscious; those things had mattered little in her mind less than three hours ago, but now, in retrospect, she felt little more than shame.

 

Because in order to hold Sasuke-kun, she had abandoned her post at Tazuna-san’s side. If Zabuza had sent even _one_ clone after his target, Sakura would’ve singlehandedly failed their mission, reducing Kakashi-sensei’s poor condition gained protecting them and Sasuke-kun’s transformation into a _pin cushion_ to naught.

 

And then even Naruto, idiotic, loudmouthed, dead-last Naruto had managed to save the day, while she had failed to even attempt to land a single blow on any of their opponents.

 

Though her confidence and pride in herself as a kunoichi had grown since meeting Ino and being put on a team with Naruto, in light of the recent events, she couldn’t help but think that said pride was misplaced. Because the only reason Kakashi-sensei or Sasuke-kun had even so much as _looked_ her way during the fights on the bridge was to make sure she was still alive, and that she had protected their charge. Because they didn’t trust her skill. Because she was a _liability_. Because even Sasuke-kun and Naruto had managed to cooperate and free their sensei during their first clash with Zabuza, despite being vastly outmatched by the missing-nin’s skill and experience and sheer readiness to _kill_.

 

While Sakura? Sakura had stayed within the safety of the shore, a meagre kunai drawn while her teammates and sensei were doing the work of legends.

 

She had never felt as useless as she had in during the last week.

 

And with that thought in mind, an idea bloomed, a small flame determination gently warming her insides: she would get Sasuke-kun to notice her, but not in the way as he had today. Not as something he needed to protect, because he knew she couldn’t protect herself. She was beginning to loathe the girl who had spread the rumour that Sasuke-kun’s preferred type of girl was one with long hair, pretty, slim, confident, and all the adjectives Ino used to constantly rant on about; because she had ensured that she ticked every single metaphorical box, yet the most she had ever received in terms of acknowledgement had been “Hn. Annoying.”

 

Because Sasuke-kun didn’t need a fangirl in Team 7. He didn’t need someone shouting encouragement and telling him how amazing he was. Because his willingness to challenge a ninja whom he’d known nothing about apart from his loyalty to a renowned missing-nin to a one-on-one had shown that Sasuke-kun was more than aware of his prodigious skill and ability.

 

What Sasuke-kun needed, she realised, with startling clarity and conviction, what had allowed him to cooperate with Naruto as if they had been teammates for _years_ , was someone whom he could trust. And Naruto, for all of his ignorance to the basic things like chakra and alliances and first-year Academy material, had proven incredibly resilient, determined and most of all _trustworthy._

In other words, everything that Sakura was not.

 

“Hey, hey, Sakura-chan!! Are you alright?” and Sakura became aware of a hand being waved in front of her face, and Naruto’s concerned blue eyes were a lot closer than they should’ve been seeing as they were walking-

 

Wait. They were _walking_?

 

It seemed that in her musings, they had left the graves and were making their way back to Konoha, and a quick look around assured her that they had left the Land of Waves behind a long time ago.

_Exactly how long was I out of it?_

Then, she realised that Naruto was still waiting for an answer, and she forced a small smile, waving him off. “I’m fine, Naruto, don’t worry.” Due to their proximity, she couldn’t have missed the way the blonde’s eyes lit up when she answered his question and didn’t berate him to mind his own business.

 _Had I really been_ that _horrible?_

But Naruto had grown in her eyes over the course of the mission; he was still annoying in her eyes, still too loud and obnoxious and she found the fact that he kept asking her out discomfiting, but then again, he had been dependable during the time when she had faltered. And, if she were honest with herself, she couldn’t begrudge him doing the same thing as she did to Sasuke-kun every day without sounding like the biggest hypocrite ever, so gritting her teeth and swallowing her pride, she took the first step towards her self-appointed task.

“Hey, um, Naruto?” she called out, hating how her voice faltered as if unused to addressing the blonde like a normal person instead of shouting his name with ire. When his attention snapped to her, as if seemingly as disbelieving that she was _willingly talking to him_ as she was, she soldiered on. “Good job, um, back there, with those, you know, those bandits.” And she screwed her eyes shut, cursing herself for messing up the simplest compliment ever, but when only silence greeted her words, she carefully pried one eye open, finding that Naruto was all but _glowing_ at the praise, a thousand-watt smile on his face.

“Believe it, Sakura-chan! I’m one step closer to being Hokage!”

If he sensed her discomfort, he didn’t comment, and for once, she found herself grateful. _Grateful to Naruto,_ she mused, _who would’ve thought._ And as he sped to the front of the formation to walk beside Sasuke-kun, leaving her yet again alone with her thoughts, another idea came to mind.

_I won’t just become a teammate for Sasuke-kun. Team 7 is a three-man squad. And Naruto… if Sasuke-kun trusts him, and is willing to work with him, then I will, too. And… I’ll be a better teammate to both. Someone both of them can trust, can rely on._

And then, her mind briefly drifting back to the fourth year in the Academy, when they studied the Will of Fire and what drives each ninja to be the best they can be, Sakura recalled a particular word, and she cast her eyes to the sky, the flickering flame of determination in her gut burning marginally brighter.

 _I will not be a liability to my teammates. I will not watch their backs as they race ahead, nor watch their battles from the sidelines. I will stand beside them, and I will be someone they can depend on to fight their battles with them. I will never let them get hurt protecting me ever again, for I will train until I will not_ need _protection. That is my_ nindo.

* * *

Sakura’s mother had once remarked that once her daughter set her mind on something, she was stubborn as a mule and could not be discouraged easily. At the time, Sakura had bristled, for the qualities of a mule were far from the graceful and feminine persona she’d been aiming for to please Sasuke-kun. But now, she could sort of understand where her mother was coming from; she just slightly doubted that her mother, who was so in favour of her pursuing Sasuke-kun, but so against her chosen career path, would appreciate the new outlet Sakura’s mulish qualities had focused on: becoming a better shinobi, a better teammate.

For the duration of their journey back to Konoha, Sakura had worked out rough sketches of a plan for the next few weeks. She had always been a paper-ninja, a thinker rather than a doer, preferring to think or talk her way out of a troublesome situation than to fight her way out, which set her apart from her teammates.

For over four hours, she had used every iota of that paper-ninja quality to figure out how she would go about getting closer to her nindo. So far, she had the first couple of steps:

She had originally been sorted as a genjutsu type, yet she remembered how easily ensnared she was in Kakashi’s jutsu that he’d subjected her to during the bell test. She didn’t consider that overly alarming at the time, but with her new outlook, that vulnerability simply would not do. Her first stop was therefore in the library, as every Academy student was told that there were simple D and C-rank jutsu available to genin, though more advanced techniques became available as you moved up in the ranks. Despite that, Sakura had to guiltily acknowledge that she had not bothered to take advantage of her Village’s resources until she had been physically shown the proof of her own inadequacy.

The second was something she’d only discovered during this mission – and probably the only thing Kakashi-sensei had actually taught her, if she were to be honest and a bit bitter – her natural predisposition for chakra control. But even then, even when she found that what her teammates struggled with came to her as easy as breathing, she did not reach for the limits – she stopped on the first available branch instead of going to the very top of the tree, and she found that an apt metaphor for how all of her kunoichi training thus far had gone: putting just enough effort to get by, but nothing more, nothing out of the ordinary.

When they arrived in Konoha, she had only stopped at home only long enough to drop her mission pack and take a quick shower, so she quickly found herself on the steps leading to the library. And suddenly, she realised that the disappointment and shame at her abysmal skill was gradually being replaced by excitement. Steeling herself, she pushed the door open, the flame of determination that had settled in her heart burning bright.

 _No more ‘weak’ Sakura._ She promised herself, and walked in.

* * *

 

 


	2. First Steps

It was… _comforting,_ in a way, being surrounded by so many books and scrolls, despite the task that loomed before her. Pre-Ino Sakura grew up with books, her inborn shyness and fear of getting bullied making her introverted by necessity. The rosette remembered how she used to spend days upon days reading, and even after meeting the blonde, she retained the ability to consume entire tomes in the space of a few hours. Unbidden, a smile bloomed on her face, her earlier nerves completely gone – here she was, a paper ninja in a room full of books and scrolls. She was in her element, if she could claim anything to be her element.

 

It was with that thought in mind that she nodded at the jounin manning the library desk, forgoing asking for assistance for the time being as she carefully navigated to the ninja section which was marked as available for genin. Her eyes scanned the titles as her finger traced over every scroll and book on the shelf, occasionally stopping to pull out ones she deemed appropriate to begin with; Sakura chose to begin with pure chakra theory, mentally preparing herself for a refresher of some of the material covered in the Academy, but hoping to find some new hints and pointers regardless. Soon, five scrolls were clutched in her arms, and she settled down at one of the tables in the open area in the middle of the library as she stole a glance at the clock – Team 7 had reached the Village in the early afternoon, and thanks to her quick stop at home, Sakura still had over five hours before she would need to go home and start preparing dinner for when her parents got off work. _Five hours for five scrolls,_ she thought happily as she pulled out a notebook she had snagged from home and unravelled the first scroll labelled _Chakra: Channelling and Manipulation._

_Perfect._

 

* * *

 

Walking out of the library after that first afternoon had assured Sakura of one thing – the Academy curriculum barely even _skimmed_ the surface of the iceberg that was chakra. There was so much she had not known, so many details she was unaware of even in the concepts that she had been familiar with. Her hand had cramped towards the end with the amount of notes she was taking, but she could not stop even if she wanted to – Sakura felt like her eyes were being forcefully pried open and, for once, she didn’t mind.

 

_Tree walking, water walking, muscle augmentation, chakra scalpels, chakra blades, speed, strength-!_

All of those were but a handful of uses of chakra she had been unaware of prior to that day; the Academy mainly preached chakra as the catalyst for supplementary ninjutsu that they needed to pass the tests and briefly touched on its usage with elemental manipulation. She had no idea that there were so many other uses, so many uses which seemed possible even for _her_ , and as such she had not been able to stifle some of her awed gasps at some of the material she came across, but her eyes never left the texts – not even when she became aware of the jounin at the desk laughing at her.

 

So Sakura went back.

 

Every day for a fortnight she would head to the library when training was over and she would spend hours upon hours perusing the knowledge trapped in the scrolls just waiting to be read and appreciated. She kept careful track of the titles of every scroll she read, came up with her own rating system for the difficulty, danger and usefulness of every technique she learned, and when every scroll on chakra theory on the bookshelf had been read, she moved on to Stage Two – genjutsu.

 

And the whole process started again.

 

She tackled genjutsu theory with a single-minded intensity that surprised even her; she learned that there were two ways of casting the illusions – one which affected an entire area, using the caster’s chakra to alter the way the surroundings appeared to their opponent to their will, and the other on the opponent themselves, using chakra to change perceptions from the _inside_. The latter was infinitely more dangerous, she soon realised, because it required not only perfect control of chakra, but also knowledge of how the mind worked. Still, the more she read about application, about the history of internal-effect genjutsu, the more she realised the sheer _need_ she felt to learn it. When she accepted that need, she was quick to reassure herself that knowledge of the workings of the human brain was a difficulty she could easily overcome – a quick scan of the, admittedly few, medical texts available to genin had revealed two she deemed capable of providing her with the necessary theory. Theory was theory, whether chakra or genjutsu or medical – she would not allow fear of further research to become a deterrent.

 

So she studied the link between the amygdala and how to amplify fear, learnt how to stimulate the limbic system and the neurons in the hippocampus to make people relive their worst memories, learnt how to suppress the suprachiasmatic nucleus to completely stop the part of the brain responsible for controlling heart rate, all the while thinking of how every technique she came across could be made all that little bit more _terrifying_ if she could induce a real reaction to a false image-!

 

And she caught herself at that thought.

 

Because her aim was not to make things terrifying. It was not to stop her opponents’ hearts with just a thought and a pulse of chakra. It was not to become as ruthless as Zabuza was, a ninja who knew no quarter. Her goal was altogether much simpler, but at the same time equally as challenging: her goal was to become a better _teammate,_ to be someone people could trust, could depend on.

 

 _But_ … she thought, as she recalled Zabuza on the bridge and the sheer _intent to kill_ that radiated off of that man in nauseating waves. _I cannot help Naruto and Sasuke-kun, I cannot_ be _a better teammate if I am not willing to match my opponents in intensity. And I have no chance in taijutsu, nor elemental ninjutsu like Sasuke-kun, nor do I have the sheer resilience and brawl on my side as Naruto. But…_ Her gaze strayed to the scroll still unravelled before her, to the chakra systems and pressure points and the fragility of the human consciousness. _But this, this psychological manipulation, this battlefield made of science and chakra rather than fire and steel, this may be a battlefield where I can stand as their equal. This_ will be _the battlefield where I’ll stand as their equal._

Her doubts about the morality of her actions and plans temporarily subdued, she returned to her reading with renewed determination, forgetting all but the goal that stood before her, but just out of reach.

 

_I will not fail my team again._

* * *

 

Genma sighed.

 

His one month of Hokage-induced break from active service in the form of manning the library desk had seemed like a month of grudging _vacation,_ especially for a shinobi who spent the better part of his early teens in a state of war and on the front lines protecting the Yondaime, not that the Yellow Flash had needed it much. But, to his upmost surprise, it was proving to be a serious exercise in _patience._

All because of a goddamn _prepubescent_ _pink-haired brat._

 

Not even Ebisu during their genin days, despite how much Genma had bullied him about being a bookworm with a stick up his ass, had made a habit of holing himself up in the library for hours upon hours at a time. And, unless his eyes were deceiving him, Ebisu had _definitely_ not been able to almost devour over fifty scrolls and books on something as dull as chakra control and genjutsu theory in the space of less than a fortnight.

 

Genma had initially taken the _ignore and observe_ route, but when two weeks had gone by and the rosette still came to the library like clockwork, his patience ran out.

 

It proved just how absorbed into her reading the kid was that she didn’t notice him approach even when he was essentially looming over her and there was no other person around.

 

“Oi, brat, is there a reason you decided to become a living, breathing container of the Academy curriculum?” he asked with his long-ago perfected nonchalance, eyebrow raising when the girl jumped as if she’d been electrocuted, wide emerald eyes snapping to meet his in alarm.

 

He watched in silence as a myriad of emotions played across her features – surprise, confusion, a hint of annoyance, exasperation, before it finally settled on something that looked all-too resigned to be comfortable for Genma.

 

“I- uh…” she paused, eyes falling back to the scroll before her, this one on – if he wasn’t mistaken – the Double False Surroundings genjutsu, before they flitted back to meet his carefully-neutral gaze. “I know a lot of these.” She absently indicated the notes and jutsu scrolls and books spread around her on the table. “But I have no one to practise with at the moment. So I thought… I might learn as much theory as I can until I find someone to help me with the practical aspects.”

 

Genma’s other eyebrow soared to join the first one. “What about your teammates?” he asked despite himself. “Genin are put into three-man squads for this exact reason.” He didn’t miss the wince that passed over her features at the mention of her team.

 

“My teammates are… they’re the reason I’m in here in the first place.” She eventually admitted, a self-depreciating smile appearing on her face. Genma stifled the need to offer comfort to a kid he didn’t even know.

 

“Your sensei then?” another wince. Damn it.

 

“My sensei is a busy man. And… he only has eyes for one of us.” This time, he openly sighed, drawing a curious glance from the kid. Genma was no stranger to favouritism, though luckily not from personal experience – Gai, for all that the brunet loved him for his infallible good cheer and determination, clearly saw nothing wrong in creating a literal carbon copy of himself and have it run around the Village, but Genma, in the few minutes he’d had with Team Gai by means of being introduced as ‘my youthful teammate from my own genin days!’, had not missed the clear resentment for his old teammate in the lilac eyes of the Hyuuga, or the slight disappointment in his kunoichi. No, Genma knew perhaps better than most the negative effects of favouritism on those left out of the loop. But, he reckoned, he rarely saw it channelled into something as productive as that which was being done by the rosette, which was the only reason he could later come up with for what came out of his – _stupid stupid stupid! –_ mouth less than a few seconds later.

 

“What about your clan? Surely they can help?”

 

A dejected shake of the head. “My family is civilian.”

 

_Don’t do it don’t don’t don’t-!_

“Tell you what, kid,” _fucking stop right now-!_ “I get Saturday afternoons off, so if you come here again tomorrow I’ll let you practise on me. I’m no expert on genjutsu,” he cast a meaningful glance at the scrolls on the table, “but I know the basics, which should be enough to hold off a genin.” The voice in his head seemed to give one last, dejected sigh before it disappeared, and he felt like he suddenly regained control of his body and nearly face-palmed at the offer that left his lips, wanting desperately to recall it, because why would she want to take him up on it if he was nothing but a stranger and for all she knew-

 

“You’d do that?”

 

Whoa. He was not prepared for the amount of awe and desperate hope in her voice, nor for the eyes which stared at him like he had just done her the biggest favour in the world.

 

“Yeah,” he nodded, ignoring the desire to run away while he still could. “why else would I offer?”

 

But, unbeknownst to Genma, he really had done her the biggest favour in the world.

 

He gave her a _chance_.

 

* * *

 

Sakura showed up to the library the next day equal parts terrified and excited – training had gone awfully that day; Naruto and Sasuke-kun had been at each other’s throats from early morning, Kakashi-sensei had been even later than usual and even once he’d arrived he had done little to separate the boys or even tell them off, and he didn’t even notice when Sakura gave up trying to calm them down and went, instead, to practise tree-climbing again, walking, running, crawling and climbing up the trees over and over again for _hours_ till she felt faint amount of chakra she’d used up and her palms and knees were scuffed and bleeding. She went home only long enough to put antiseptic cream on her scratches and change out of her sweaty red dress into a red top and loose grey hakama pants which she secured with bandages at the ankles and tucked into her sandals before she quickly grabbed her notebook and weapons pouch and left for the library.

 

Genma, as always, was already there, but for once he wasn’t sat behind the desk, but was instead leaning against it and chatting with another jounin who sat in his usual spot, but when he spotted her he paused and pushed off, throwing a ‘see ya later, Rai’ over his shoulder as he met her at the door. The other man’s eyes widened as they fell on her but he remained silent, offering a grunt in response as he went back to his papers so Sakura dismissed his bizarre reaction, focusing on the fast-approaching brunet.

 

“Thought you were going to chicken out, kid.” Was his greeting, and Sakura didn’t quite manage to stifle her snort, drawing an amused glance her way as she blushed.

 

“That would’ve been stupid of me.” She replied, then quickly amended, remembering that she was essentially talking to a stranger. “I mean, I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.” She apologised, bowing shallowly, then startled when he chuckled.

 

“Don’t worry, kid. I’m not gonna complain about getting more time to relax.” They had walked out of the library while Sakura was making a fool of herself, and she let Genma lead her wherever he thought best for the ‘experiment’. When they arrived at the training grounds, Genma stopped so suddenly she almost ran into him. Walking around to face him, she raised an eyebrow as he spread his arms in a gesture that exuded comfort.

 

“Well, shoot, kid, what do you want to try? You seem to have all the theory down judging by the last two weeks you spent _inhaling_ all the books.” And when he saw the rosette stiffen at his words, he sighed inwardly; _here we go._

To his surprise, what came wasn’t tears or shouting or even a tantrum – instead, a contemplative frown pulled at her brows as she assessed him. “That’s just it.” She murmured. “I have all the theory down. I know exactly _how_ to cast it a genjutsu, I know exactly where to gather chakra and how long to hold it in and how to adjust the flow to manage water walking. I have detailed notes on where the amygdala is and how much chakra is needed to stimulate it while maintaining a genjutsu, how much I can push till it becomes too much.” She paused, meeting his eyes with something like desperation. “But knowing _how_ to do it doesn’t mean that I _can_ do it.”

 

And Genma sympathised, so he smirked. “Alright. Now, prepare yourself, and I’ll show you.”

 

Sakura expected pointers, maybe a step-by-step tutorial, or a demonstration on a shadow clone; what she was not expecting was being subjected to a very vivid Hell Viewing Technique and the chuckle that somehow followed her even into the illusion.

 

* * *

 

Over the next two weeks, Sakura got almost exclusively hands-on instructions, as Genma took the list of books and scrolls she’d read and somehow managed to come up with exercises which tested something from every single one of them. It was more than theory of casting genjutsu and tips on how to cast them best – for every illusion that he helped her cast, he made her experience it first-hand. Apparently, it was so she’d ‘know better what pitfalls to avoid when casting her own’, but Sakura was beginning to suspect Genma-san actually _enjoyed_ her indignant glares and threats of bloody murder whenever he caught her off guard. That goddamn smirk of his certainly didn’t imply anything on the contrary. Still, as infuriating as he might’ve been, Sakura was confident in her abilities of casting the Hell Viewing Technique, as well as both of the False-Surroundings genjutsu, though Hazy jutsy still required some work. Genma-san had also helped her with learning how to cycle chakra through her muscles and how to channel chakra to her feet to speed up her run by taking bigger leaps. He’d been only insistent that she doesn’t try any new illusions when he wasn’t there to test it on, and when she asked why, he turned the most serious she had ever seen him and explained: “There have been cases when ninja have experimented without supervision and ended up inverting the jutsu on themselves, trapped in their own mind. Genjutsu is a subtle art, requiring excellent chakra control and intelligence - not only because of the deadly effect it can have on your enemies, but for the consequences it can have on you if you mess up.” She had read about some of the sideeffects of genjutsu-gone-wrong when she studied the theory scrolls, but to see a jounin who seemed to never let anything faze him appear genuinely concerned by that possibility was unnerving enough that Sakura promised to take his warning seriously.

 

She was justifiably sad when he got called away for a courier mission about a week and a half into their arrangement, but she was surprised when he left a task for her to do and some of his own pointers for attempting water-walking as well as the best part of the river to try it out on. That was _initiative._ She hadn’t expected initiative from a man who had no personal investment in her progress.

 

But, she would take what she was given, and she would take it gladly. So the next morning Sakura rose early, three hours before she was due at Team 7’s training grounds, and as she was packing for another D-Rank or training with her team, she threw an extra top and a towel into her pack and set off. She had decided to skip her usual dress and went instead with a pair of black shorts and a short-sleeved grey top, having deemed them easier to dry and, if need be, throw away when she inevitably got soaked. After arriving at the stream indicated by Genma-san, she dropped her pack by the riverbank and thought about everything she'd read about the technique as well as Genma-san’s pointers: the fundamental difference between the river and a tree lay in the fact that the tree was stable and unmoving, while the river constantly flowed, and the chakra therefore had to be constantly adjusted as well. Genma-san had advised to start in the shallowest parts, where the water barely went up past the knee and then progress to deeper water as she’d have to watch the chakra as the depth changed; deciding to just get it over and done with, chose the part of the bank which looked the least slippery and carefully, carefully stepped on the water with one foot.

 

And promptly fell on her knees, feeling the impact send a jolt up through her joints, hands slipping on algae-covered rocks at the bottom, her entire front drenched. _Damn._

So she tried again, pushing chakra to her feet till she could literally feel the water like a solid surface beneath her feet and only wobbled a little as she stood. Once satisfied that she could balance on the water, she realised that the arguably more difficult wall to overcome was going to be actually _moving_. And that was something she really did not foresee going well.

 

And she was right.

 

An hour later, she had managed to fall in seven more times, luckily having had enough foresight to move to the deeper water so she would not hurt her knees any more. She was drenched and dripping and nearly swaying on her feet from how much chakra she’d used, but she was _victorious_.

 

Because a certain sense of satisfaction came about an hour into the exercise – once she discovered that she could run across the surface almost as easily as on the ground, she started to have _fun._ She glided and skated and twirled on the water like a dancer, mimicking some of Zabuza’s faints and Kakashi’s dodges and feeling her chakra adjust almost instinctively the longer she trained.

 

When she glanced up and realised she had less than half an hour left till training officially began, she climbed back on the riverbank and collapsed on the grass, letting the early morning sun dry her. Her hair was wet and stuck to her face, she was flushed and panting and her chakra was almost completely gone, but Sakura had never felt as _accomplished_ as she did just then. She'd just mastered something by herself. Without being coddled or carefully instructed, she had made the first tottering step to being a ninja in her own right.

 

But by the time she made it to the training grounds, her wet hair gathered in a bun and her grey hakama pants and red kimono-cut top a stark contrast to her usual qipao dress, some of her earlier satisfaction had faded into a dull sort of pleasure. Because the first person she’d thought of telling hadn’t been Kakashi-sensei, hadn’t been Sasuke-kun or even Naruto, it had been Genma-san. Because Genma-san had shown more of an involvement in her training in two weeks than her boys had in over almost four months they’d been a team.

 

Yet she didn’t have time to ponder over this situation because, to everybody’s surprise, Kakashi-sensei appeared only half an hour after her, startling Naruto from his nap and earning a raised eyebrow from Sasuke-kun.

 

“Yo!” he greeted them in that cheerful way of his, signature eye-smile in place before he dropped a literal bombshell on them that left Sakura gaping like a fish out of water.

“I’ve signed you up for the Chuunin Exams.”

 


	3. Stepping Up

Sakura found Genma-san on the second day after Kakashi-sensei had dropped the ‘Chunin Exam Bombshell’ on Team 7. He was sitting at the dango stand and chatting with the owner, a plate of what Sakura identified to be mitarashi dango before him, but he looked tired, and Sakura briefly considered pretending she hadn’t seen him and finding him in a few days’ time instead, now that she knew he was back in the Village. But then her fear of what the ‘next few days’ would bring _with them_ won out, and she stepped into the shop and slid onto the stool beside Genma-san, flashing a smile at the owner as she requested her own plate of bocchan dango, trying not to squirm from the feeling of the jounin’s eyes on her.

“Glad you got back safely.” She offered quietly, drawing a snort from the brunet.

“Thanks, kid.” He acknowledged, before a teasing lilt entered his voice. “Though I didn’t know that eye bags became the new trend while I was gone.” Then his voice turned serious. “You look like you haven’t slept in two days.”

Sakura considered feigning annoyance and pretending to be offended by the words, but in all honesty, he wasn’t at all far from the truth. “That’s because I haven’t.” she admitted, letting the words out on a sigh. At his curious gaze, she grudgingly elaborated. “Kakashi-sensei signed us up for the Chuunin Exams.”

She didn’t miss how Genma-san stiffened beside her, but she was surprised by the muttered string of expletives that left his mouth, among which she could’ve sworn she heard ‘fucking cocky bastard’ and ‘overpowered asshole my _ass’_ , at which she had to supress the snort of laughter that threatened to escape her. But Genma-san sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly before he turned to her and asked; “I take it he explained the process?”

And at that, Sakura blinked. “Uh, no?” she offered, because, now that she thought about it, Kakashi-sensei had only given them the forms to fill and told them to show up at the Academy in a week’s time. Apparently, that had been the wrong answer, because Genma-san stabbed an empty stick into one of his dumplings with such force she thought the plate would crack.

“No _, of course_ not, what was I expecting.” He grumbled, stuffing the dumpling into his mouth, and, if chewing could ever be done angrily, Sakura was sure that he would doing exactly that.

“I mean, I know the basics that we learnt at the Academy…” she volunteered hesitantly, more out of fear for the fate of the plate than a need to defend her sensei. “Iruka-sensei told us that the Chuunin Exams would test various skill areas to determine whether we would be fit for the rank of chuunin, since the requirements are greater than those for genin.”

Surprisingly, that made Genma-san snort. “Trust Iruka to be thorough.” He laughed, but elaborated nonetheless. “The format of the Exams changes every year, and Iruka was not wrong in telling you that they test your aptitude for chunin. For that reason, the stages are usually quite similar, so there are some skills which will always be useful to you, regardless where you find yourself." he met her gaze, rolling the senbon which he’d placed back in his mouth from side to side. “During my Exam, there were three stages: theory, survival, and a combat stage. Normally, only about 10% of the genin who took the theory exam advance to the combat stage.” At Sakura’s stunned gaze, his smirk turned wry. “You were right to worry, since I’m assuming that that’s what you lost sleep over. The Exams are not easy, particularly not for those who did little more than plough fields and chase cats since leaving the Academy.”

Sakura paled at his summary, but nodded, glad that he acknowledged in that direct of his that her worries were not unfounded.

“But,” he began, sending her a considering glance. “I doubt that you came here just for me to tell you what I’m guessing you already suspected.” And Sakura couldn’t help but wince at the truth in that statement, but nodded nonetheless – she _was_ hoping he would teach her something, anything, that could help her with the Exams.

Genma sighed, but it was more amused than annoyed. “Well, in that case, finish your dango and meet me at the usual training grounds; I gotta go pick something up.”

At that, a thousand-watt grin threatened to take over her face and she ate her dango in record time, excitement and relief making her feel better than she had since Kakashi-sensei had announced the news.

There was hope yet.

* * *

 

When they met at the training grounds, Genma-san had asked her to demonstrate the water-walking technique, and seemed pleased when she didn’t hesitate to jump onto the surface of the stream and jump around a bit.

“Alright, alright, well done, kid.” He called out, and Sakura obediently climbed back to the surface. "Admittedly, I’m not surprised; this just proof that you have all the necessary foundations in chakra control before we start building on it for real. However,” and here, he met her gaze with one of his rare serious ones, “There's no point in starting you on some prodigious taijutsu sequence or an Uchiha-worthy ninjutsu. Likelihood that you'd be able to master either of them enough to actually _help you_ in the Exams is slim at best." Sakura nodded, agreeing and at the same time infinitely grateful that Genma-san was being so up-front with her, not trying to sugarcoat his words in the slightest. "So, we're going to take the coward's way out if you wanna look at it that way: we're going to play to your strengths."

Sakura smiled at the wording, unused to hearing 'strength' and her name in the same sentence unless it was preceded by 'no'. Genma's answering smirk made something warm bloom in her chest, something different than the flame of determination which had been lit after their mission to the Land of Waves, something much softer.

 

Something like hope.

 

"Now," Genma spoke, breaking the moment before he did something stupid like hug the kid. He had less than a week from what she’d told him to make sure that she would _survive._ In his mind’s eye, he could already picture his next weapons aim training, with every target replaced with Hatake Kakashi’s face.

 

_Sandaime should’ve kept him in ANBU; Minato’s prized student or no, the bastard has no clue how to lead genin…_

Then, his attention shifted back to his temporary charge, and he sighed. “What do you know about presence masking?”

* * *

 

Genma’s Sandaime-imposed month of mandatory ‘vacation’ manning the library desk had reminded him of the basics which most ninja forgot the further up they went in the ranks; basics which, from personal experience, could save a life.

Looking at the fresh-out-of-the-Academy genin before him, at the eager green eyes which have not yet learned – nor needed to learn – how to mask the emotion within them, Genma in equal parts dreaded and welcomed the chance to pass those basics onto the kid, in hopes that they would somehow help her.

He had her start on an admittedly high-level technique, but he reasoned that with her control – which he’d had her demonstrate again so he could confirm it – it was possible that she would grasp at least the basic version of cloaking her chakra, even if not manage to erase her whole presence, as many veterans from the Third Shinobi War had learned to do. He had told her to visualise her chakra, find it in her core, gave her brief pointers on what it would feel like, told her to concentrate until _she_ could feel it, and then imagine throwing a thick woollen blanket over it, stifling it. He’d even _demonstrated._

But he still hadn’t expected that after half an hour of trying, her chakra signature would suddenly _diminish_ till it was comparable with that of a _squirrel_.

He turned slightly dumbfounded eyes to the girl, who was frowning and looking at him with a question in her eyes and an eagerness not unlike that of a child getting something right. Maintaining eye contact, she appeared to concentrate again, the frown creasing her brows even more, and Genma felt her chakra signature fading some _more_ till even he wouldn’t have been able to sense it had he stumbled on the clearing by chance and not watched her do it right in front of his eyes.

 _She’d called her teammates ‘powerhouses’ but if someone pushes her training in the right direction, and her determination persists, she’ll become one in her own right._ He observed with no small degree of amusement. _Guess we can move on quicker than I thought._

* * *

 

Sakura had known that every living thing had chakra; whether she believed the legend of the Ten-Tails, she wasn’t sure, but she could accept the logic that everything around her held a degree of chakra. But she had never been able to _sense_ the chakra around her as acutely as she could after Genma-san’s instruction. When she successfully managed to mask her chakra, something which he had congratulated her for and she would admit had made her blush, unused as she was to being complimented, Genma-san moved on to something she had initially scoffed at, but he smirked at her reaction instead.

“Meditation may seem tedious.” He admitted, his smirk not budging. “But it is also the best way to enlarge your chakra reserves and get a sense for your surroundings. And, with practice, you won’t _need_ to meditate to get a feel for the chakra around you.” And she must not have been able to fully hide her incredulous look, because he chuckled. “A civilian monk who never learned the arts of being a shinobi but meditated his entire life can have similar reserves to an active jounin. Few have also been known to be able to draw on the natural chakra around them.”

And after what felt like an age but could’ve very well been only an hour, Sakura understood. She could _feel_ the life energy of the nature around her, hear its chakra coursing through the tree trunks like she could sometimes hear her heart beat at night; she thought she could vaguely sense something smaller moving in the trees, but she couldn’t be sure. Then her focus, which had spread to the forest around them, shifted to the man next to her and she startled, her concentration gone.

She jumped up from the lotus position as if burned, a very unladylike curse escaping her as she stared at the jounin in horror. To her irritation, he only met her eyes with a curious gaze and a hint of amusement.

“Y-You’re like a bottomless pit!” she accused, pointing incredulously right between his eyes with a shaking hand, affronted when he snorted.

“You flatter me.” Genma-san replied with no small degree of mirth in his voice. “But you’re just sensitive at the moment, and frankly, even a _genin_ has more chakra than a _tree_. I assure you my reserves are perfectly normal for a tokubetsu jounin.”

Her outburst temporarily forgotten at the new information, Sakura perked up. “Tokubetsu? What’s that?”

Genma-san appeared to measure her up with his gaze before he sighed and stood up, brushing off the dust as he addressed her. “A kind of specialised jounin. Now, you’ve dragged me out here less than five hours after I got back from my mission and then made me work even _more_ ; it’s only fair you buy me dinner.”

But Sakura was already used to the freeloader that was Kakashi-sensei so she only laughed as her feet led the way to Ichiraku’s, Genma-san quickly falling into step beside her. She was pleased to note that her earlier anxiety about the Exams had mostly receded – because as much as Genma-san grouched, he also hadn’t said _no_ to training her some more.

And for Sakura, that was enough.

* * *

 

The day before Sakura was due at the Academy for the first stage of the Exams, she met Genma-san at their usual training grounds and was surprised to find the tokujo already there, sitting cross-legged in one of the more grassy areas. He gestured for her to sit opposite him, and when she complied, gave her an order that threw her off.

“Empty your pouch.” Sakura blinked.

“What?” she asked, slightly dumbfounded.

“Your weapons pouch – empty it. Consider it an inspection of sorts.” He explained, though there was not a single hint of impatience in his voice. Confused, Sakura did as asked, unclasping her pouch from her belt and upturning it onto the ground between them.

A dozen or so kunai tumbled out, and six shuriken, a coil of ninja wire, three explosive tags as well as one flash bomb followed. Sakura considered her pouch to be decently well-stocked, but Genma-san’s raised eyebrow hinted otherwise. She watched him pick up her kunai and shuriken one by one and run his fingers over the edges of the blades before he raised his eyes to meet hers.

“Have you sharpened these in the last _decade_?” he asked sarcastically, pressing the pad of his finger into the ‘sharp’ edge of the blade and running it along, his finger coming out with an angry red line along it but no blood. “Kunai should be able to draw blood from the slightest scratch. The duller the blade,” he explained, drawing his arm back and launching the kunai at the nearest trunk so quickly the movement blurred before Sakura’s eyes, “the more energy it takes for it to maim its target.” And as the knife embedded itself about half-way into the tree, Genma-san drew a kunai from his _own_ pouch, and repeated the motion, which Sakura instinctively knew had the same amount of energy behind it, yet when the kunai made contact with the tree it kept going till only the _hilt_ was visible.

When Sakura’s eyes widened in astonishment, Genma-san merely sighed. “That,” he gestured at the tree, “can mean the difference between an enemy that is down for good and one who can still get up and come after you.” But as soon as Sakura felt a hot flush of shame at her obvious neglect of her weapons, Genma-san shook his head. “But you shouldn’t be hearing this from me. When _I_ was a genin, my sensei inspected our weapons on an almost weekly basis. He taught us to carry a sharpener with us wherever we went because he claimed that you never know how long a mission would take, nor what conditions it may will take you through, and the quality of your weapons can save your life.”

Sakura nodded, swearing to herself to take better care of her weaponry from then on, because how could she help Naruto and Sasuke-kun in battle if, even if she managed to hit the target, the knives wouldn’t do any damage because of her negligence?

“But, more than that, I’m surprised you don’t carry any first aid.” At that, Sakura was truly clueless. Genma-san sighed and smiled ruefully. “Might be easier if I show you what _I_ carry instead.” And he proceeded to empty his pouch, pockets, and scrolls which she hadn’t even noticed were on him till what could’ve easily been a display of a small weapons shop and a pharmacy lay before them.

At least two dozen kunai, dozen shuriken, a handful of senbon, a whole _pack_ of explosive tags, and five flash bombs as well as two small purple orbs which Sakura had never seen before came out of his weapons pouch _alone_. Despite feeling properly told off, the rosette couldn’t help her curiosity and her fingers closed around one of the purple orbs as she lifted it closer to her face. “What is that?” she asked the brunet, her eyes flitting up after a few seconds of silence to meet his calculative gaze.

“Smoke bombs.” He answered distractedly before his eyes seemed to clear and he elaborated. “The gas inside is harmless, but they’re good for obscuring vision if you don’t want your opponent to see what you’re doing or you want to sneak up on them.” Sakura twisted the bauble this way and that, her eyes trained on the little purple cloud inside.

“You could replace it just as easily though with something harmful…” she murmured, thinking out loud more than actually asking Genma. “Like airborne poison or chilli powder to dull someone’s sense of smell…”

Genma’s snort of laughter startled her to the point she nearly dropped the smoke bomb. “You’re sharp, I’ll give you that.” He laughed, “Smoke bombs filled with poison exist, but the problem with them is that you’d either have to develop an immunity to the poison – which is really time-consuming and dangerous if not done right – or carry an antidote around you at all times.” He eyed her up and down, his gaze back to thoughtful. “You might benefit quite a lot from investing in some, actually. If you used a smoke bomb in conjunction with an area-effect genjutsu, I doubt that most ninja that you’d face would be able to immediately tell something was wrong…”

Not waiting for Sakura’s response, he swept his weapons back into his pouch, waiting till the rosette caught on and did the same with hers, then he stood up and extended a hand to pull her up.

Confused, she accepted, and her curious gaze must’ve clued him in to her confusion as he laughed and sent her a teasing smirk. “Now that I’ve seen the state of your equipment I can’t with clear conscience let you take part in the Exams.” When Sakura’s confusion only increased, he snorted. “C’mon kid, we’re going shopping.”

* * *

 

Shopping with Genma-san was an _experience_ , to say the least, and Sakura drew strength from that memory as she found herself before the Academy, waiting on her teammates to begin the Exams.

The tokujo had dragged her to the weapons shop to restock her pouch, and they both soon realised that the one she already owned was too small to house the sudden increase in killing aids. In a show of generosity, Genma-san bought her a larger one, identical to his own but olive instead of cream, and Sakura had immediately added five new smoke bombs to her collection, but was then forced to turn to Genma-san for further instructions.

Instructions which he _more than happily_ provided; “Get five more of these.”, “At least another dozen.”, “Three explosive tags are _not_ enough, get a goddamn _pack_ , brat.” “Are you actually serious? Get a kunai sharpener, _snap_.” And a lot more _colourful, enthusiastic_ orders which made even the shop owner send her a pitying glance at the end of the ordeal, but Sakura found that she couldn’t keep the happy grin off her face if she _tried_. After the weapons shop, she was led to a pharmacy, and Genma-san instructed her to stock up with bandages, antiseptic cream, blood replenishing pills, basic needle and thread for hasty stitches and a rubber tourniquet (Sakura had raised a curious eyebrow at the last addition, but Genma-san offered her a grim twist to his lips and a solemn “Better safe than sorry. Just pray you’ll never have to use it.” And Sakura nodded and paid for everything, then promised herself she’d acquaint herself with the rubber band when she got home; if Genma-san thought it important, she’d make sure she knew how to use it.)

They left the shop, Sakura laden with bags carrying her newly-stocked weapons and medical supplies. And then, as if she wasn't already completely weirded out by the experience of shopping with a _jounin_ , Genma-san mentioned her _outfit_.  

"You might want to invest in something which blends in more." and it was such an offhand comment that Sakura couldn't quite stop the snort that escaped her. Genma-san grinned but elaborated, and the rosette had to grudgingly acknowledge the reasoning behind what he was saying. "Konoha is largely forests - why do you think the average chunin and jounin uniform is navy and green? It's more than a fashion statement, kid."

 

But then it was Sakura's turn to grin as a plan formed in her mind. "Well then, since I'm just an _inexperienced genin,_ I'm sure you wouldn't mind going with me to find an outfit which you'd deem 'shinobi-appropriate'?" and if her grin was slightly devious... Well. 

 

Genma-san looked terrified, but Sakura had been training how to enhance her strength for the better part of two weeks, and before the tokujo could so much as blink, she'd grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the nearest boutique. 

* * *

 

The shop clerks who'd known Genma-san personally had no qualms against laughing at his predicament. Though Sakura had to hastily explain at one point that _no_ , she most definitely _was not_ Genma-san's daughter, _ew_ , she decided that she could forgive the clerk for his comment when Genma-san looked at the clerk and asked "do I _look_ like I could produce _pink_ _hair_?" in a tone so aghast that Sakura had to hold on to the cabinet to not fall on her face with the force of her laughter.

 

In the end, they walked out of the shops with a similar outfit to that of an average chunin; but instead of a flak jacket, Sakura had a sleeveless zip up jacket the same navy as her hakama pants, and a bottle green turtleneck that hugged her arms and highlighted the slimness of her neck. Far from her previous qipao dress fashion wise, but Sakura could appreciate the practicality when she put it on in the morning and had enough pockets to safely stow away her newly-bought medical equipment and then some. But, more than that, she realised that despite the fact that it was only on an artificial, aesthetic level, she still felt closer to being a true _shinobi_ when she wore it. 

 

Genma-san had grumbled variations of "I can't believe you conned me into _shopping_." all the way to Sakura's house, where he stopped long enough to give her one final pearl of wisdom before the Exams. 

 

"You're a genjutsu type, and your control over your chakra is substandard.” He announced suddenly, almost startling her. “Those are your main weapons. They're unconventional, and still developing, true; you're not a master, not by far, but you are more advanced than most your age." he must've seen her confusion because he smiled ruefully and let one of his hands rest on her shoulder. "They are your strengths. Play to them. If it should come to a one on one battle, end it as quickly as you can. Best way would be to disorient them with a genjutsu, then disarm. Your taijutsu is at a stage where close combat will not end in your favour, and supplementary ninjutsu will only get you so far, but do _not_ get discouraged." he bent so he was eye level with her, and said, with more conviction than anything she'd heard before, "You already have something far more specialised than I did when I took my Exams. Use it, and you'll be fine. _Oi_ , none of that!" he scolded when she looked unconvinced. "You _will_ be fine, alright? I trust you."

 

Sakura froze. 

 

_I trust you._

 

And before her brain could quite catch up with her body, she'd thrown her arms, shopping bags and all, around the jounin's shoulders and buried her face in the collar of his flak jacket, trying to wordlessly convey the endless gratitude she felt for his help and support. 

 

"Oi, kid, get off, we're not _that_ close yet, get _off_ -!" but she kept clinging to him, and eventually he stopped protesting and one of his hands came up to rest on her head, ruffling the pink locks. "Make sure to come back in one piece, yeah?" and before she could reply, she was staggering forward, struggling to catch her balance as her hands fisted on air. But she couldn't even be mad that he'd shunshined on her, because the same three words were repeating in her head like a mantra:

 

 _I trust you_. 

 

"Sakura-chaaaan!!" she was broken out of her reverie by a speeding blob of orange, and Sakura waited till he was less than two metres away from her before she gracefully sidestepped the blonde and laughed as he all but ran into the tree behind her. She spotted Sasuke-kun a few steps away and she sent him a smile before her attention was forcefully dragged to Naruto, who'd taken to jumping around her in awe. "Sakura-chan!! Your outfit!! Your _hair_!!" and his hands were flailing and gesticulating so much Sakura thought for sure he was going to smack her in the face.

 

“Sentences, baka, I need sentences.” She chastised in what she realised was a very Genma-esque manner. Sasuke-kun joined them and though his eyes scanned her from head to toe, he said nothing and stared at the blond with clear annoyance.

 

“Can it, dobe, people are staring.” He sniped, and Naruto was about to round on him for the comment but Sakura quickly grabbed at his collar, strategically placing herself between the two boys. “How about we go sign in instead? I thought you were excited for the Exams?” and though she knew they still were very much excited, it was enough to side-track Naruto into forgetting about his anger at the Uchiha.

 

“Yeah let’s go!”

 

But the moment they walked up the steps to where Room 301 was supposed to be, Naruto visibly startling at the small crowd already gathered by the door which seemed to be guarded by two other boys, Sakura froze.

 

Because the sign which read _301_ in a clear, unmistakable font, was brimming with so much chakra that it would’ve earned her a smack to the back of the head from Genma-san had this been her illusion.

 

_But… it doesn’t make sense. A trick, so early on? And what can be so bad behind those doors that other genin would warn others against going in?_

“Sakura-chan?” Naruto briefly forgot about the crowd to turn to her, Sasuke wordlessly doing the same. “Are you having second thoughts?” and Sakura barely restrained the urge to smack the blond, but instead laid her hand on his shoulder, an action which she mirrored on Sasuke-kun, ignoring his confused frown.

                                                                                                               

“Not at all.” She replied, and sent a pulse of her chakra into the boys’ systems, disrupting their own. When Naruto jumped under her hand and Sasuke-kun winced, she wordlessly motioned to the plaque, which, after a quick _kai_ of her own revealed what she had already guessed:

 

The sign which previously read _301_ now displayed _201._

_Bingo._

“Genjutsu…?” Sasuke-kun murmured, sending her a surprised glance which she tried not to blush at, though Naruto’s stunned face really wasn’t helping her case.

 

“Yeah.” She acknowledged, smiling slightly. “Now let’s go – we’ve got another floor to get to, don’t we?” And to her surprise, both boys started towards the stairs. She hurried to catch up, and all three ascended the stairs, ignoring the surprised calls of the crowd they left behind. 

* * *

 

They noticed. The little genin who froze, who the brunet had been about to taunt and call a coward but bit his tongue when the pinkette broke her teammates out of their genjutsu _simultaneously_ before releasing it on herself. Their eyes met for a second, the same thought circling in both minds.

_Interesting._

* * *

 

Sakura was ready to murder.

Not even Zabuza had inspired such murderous intentions within her as Naruto’s _obnoxious, tactless_ _declaration_ had. Then again, it was also her fault, as she should’ve already realised that the blonde flourished in situations where others would normally crumble, and a roomful of people who looked like they ate rookies like them for breakfast was no different.

She briefly listened to the silver-haired genin’s explanations, allowing herself a moment of surprise at the stack of ninja info cards: even _Genma-san_ said that they were a very high-level accessory, not simply because of their cost, but also the fact that they required a ninja to either be very well-travelled to be able to gather the information to fill the cards, have a wide-spanning information network or a background in espionage. At first glance, the guy didn’t seem to fill any of the above requirements, and she spared a brief thought to where he gained the information before she dismissed it and forced herself to relax.

Sakura allowed herself an exasperated sigh, letting her shoulders slump in the company of people she had essentially grown up with, and focused instead on the rest of the room. Genma-san’s instructions were echoing in her mind as she carefully sent out her chakra to ‘gauge’ the couple of ninja sitting the closest to where their group stood. She fought hard not to recoil at their far more developed chakra reserves and sent a quick prayer to kami-sama in hopes that these particular genin were the enigmas, the prodigies, and not, as she already suspected, a sign that her and her team were far more outclassed than she’d worried they were even before the Exams.

But then, she didn’t have time to worry any more as, suddenly, the silver-haired genin – Kabuto or something – was being attacked by very unnerving-looking ninja with a hitai-ate bearing a symbol she had never seen. The urge to help Kabuto briefly crossed her mind, but it was soon drowned out by a memory of Genma-san’s advice to ‘keep a low profile’ – right then, Kabuto’s prone figure was at the centre of attention of the whole room, the exact opposite of inconspicuous. And while Naruto had no qualms against rushing to the genin’s side, Sakura stayed where she was, preferring to observe instead.

At the last second, when it looked like the confrontation would escalate into an all-out brawl, a commotion at the front drew everyone’s attention, and Sakura was in equal parts relieved and horrified at the rows of proctors who appeared when the smoke cleared. Relieved, because there was finally some structure in the chaos, a direct superior she could turn to. Horrified because of the gruesome scars which marred the tallest man’s face, one spanning all the way from his chin and disappearing into his bandana, while the other cut across his whole cheek and looked longer than the length of Sakura’s hand.

Scars were common in their career path, but facial scars were one of those things which stood out more than others and Sakura couldn’t help her wince. Then two blissful words left the man’s mouth and the rosette decided that scars and intimidating appearance or no, he was her new favourite person in the room:

_Written Exam._

A relieved sigh left Sakura’s lips, some of her confidence returning. This was something she could do; she was a paper-ninja after all.

Half an hour later, she was ready to take that wishful thinking back and spit the examiner in the face. Not only were the questions hard even for _her_ and tested every iota of her booksmarts, but the requirement for passing was that _all three_ teammates answer at least one question correctly.

And that meant Team 7’s fate rested in _Naruto’s hands_.

But then, Morino-san announced the tenth question, the choice they had to forfeit or stay. At first, Sakura had half a mind to raise her hand and quit while ahead, knowing that career-genin existed and could gain respectable positions. But then, she thought of Sasuke-kun and his talents and ambitions, she thought of Kakashi-sensei who she felt an inexplicable need to prove herself to, and of Genma-san who had sacrificed a lot of his free time to ensure she could stand up on her own feet, who had helped her when she felt overwhelmingly alone. And she thought of Naruto and his unerring determination, his tendency to thrive when the odds were against him, Naruto who-

_-whose hand was raised to forfeit?_

Sakura’s mind short-circuited trying to reconcile brash, fearless Naruto with the quivering mess of a boy a few rows in front of her.

She failed.

And then, he surprised her again, and judging by the faces of the proctors, she wasn’t the only one thrown off by the declaration.

Somehow, she found the energy to smile, her own resolve strengthening in the face of Naruto’s will.

But then, her desire to spit Morino-san in the face returned full force when he declared that the whole written exam was a ruse and announced that they all passed.

_What a terrifying, cheeky shit._

* * *

 

When all the chuunin invigilators were allowed to stand down and gather in the break room, the written exam finally over, the commentary began.

“So many of them passed!”

“Are you really surprised? They’re all future powerhouses.”

“Yeah – there was the Uchiha, two Hyuuga, the Ino-Shika-Cho spawns, the Kazekage’s children; they were _bound_ to find ways around the rules.”

“Still, it’s weird. Normally, the numbers rarely go above thirty at this stage.”

Among the chatting, Izumo found his partner staring out the window, watching the clearing where Anko was treating those who passed to the most charming aspects of her personality. “Hey,” Kotetsu greeted when he neared him, eyes scanning the genin. “Oh, looks like pinky passed.” Automatically, Izumo’s eyes sought out the head of pink hair and he nodded an affirmative, opening his mouth to ask the other about something when they were interrupted;

“Not just ‘ _passed’_.” Ibiki cut in, appearing behind them and brandishing a single sheet with neat, Academy-taught characters, every question answered in what appeared to be meticulous detail. “But passed with _full marks_.” Kotetsu’s eyebrows soared and he nodded in acknowledgement of the jounin’s words before turning to one of the quieter chunin and demanding;

“Oi, Tsuzumi! She was in your row, wasn’t she?” when the other chunin scrambled for his clipboard to verify, Izumo caught Kotetsu’s eye, realising without the need for words that _both of them_ were curious about the genin who’d seen through and singlehandedly broken their genjutsu.

“Yeah, Haruno Sakura, I’ve got her here.” Tsuzumi announced. “What did you want?”

Izumo, catching onto Kotetsu’s thought process, replied. “How many times did she cheat?” Kotetsu’s approving glance told him that he’d guessed his intentions correctly, and they shared a grin before turning to hear the answer, expectant.

“Uh, none.” Tsuzumi said, his own eyebrows rising. “She never looked up from her paper.”

At that, Kotetsu whistled while Izumo considered exactly what that meant – the test _wasn’t meant_ to be answered by _genin_. In fact, he reckoned most of the _chuunin_ in the room would struggle with answering all the questions – he certainly would.

Then again, they always said that intelligence was a prerequisite for genjutsu users – he was just glad someone had put the two together when it came to the girl’s training; genjutsu, after all, was not a particularly popular Ninja Art style in Konoha.

 _This year’s batch is proving to be_ very _interesting._

Meanwhile, Sakura cursed herself for not raising her hand and forfeiting while she still had the chance: if Morino-san had been intimidating and fearsome with his scars and experience, the woman before them – Mitarashi Anko – could only be summarised with two words:

_Clinically insane._


	4. Changes

There was a lot to be said about the looming monstrosity that was Training Ground 44, and even from the outside, Sakura could clearly see how it had earned its moniker of "the Forest of Death". She didn’t understand how Mitarashi-san could be so relaxed – there was something inherently unpleasant about the aura the forest gave off, and she dreaded having to go in there. 

Much less having to go in there and fight other genin for a _scroll_ , of all things. 

Logistically, five days for a distance of five kilometres seemed a bit excessive, particularly when one took into consideration that most, if not all of the genin gathered were capable of a chakra-enhanced spring. But, on some inexplicable, instinctual level, Sakura knew that there would be more waiting for them in that forest than just other ninja, and she would consider herself lucky if any of the flora found in the forest would be recognisable to her; the thick, succulent-resembling plant she could see at the very edge _definitely_ wasn’t native to Konoha.

Still, while they waited for Mitarashi-san to begin the exam, Sakura remembered one of the Academy lessons which Genma-san had made a point to stress to her; and she turned to her teammates, quietly asking: "Do we have a plan of action?"

Naruto blinked owlishly, as if shocked by the sheer notion before a contemplative frown appeared on his face and he seemed to really think it over. Surprised but pleased, Sakura’s gaze moved to Sasuke-kun who didn’t bother hiding his surprise at the question, but instead of making her blush, the expression made something bitter stir within her: she realised that what she’d previously taken as a compliment was anything but. His surprise only proved that he didn't think she’d be the one to propose a plan, despite the fact that she was a paper-ninja through and through – planning and strategizing were the only things she could really _do_ on a team of powerhouses. Her mind alerted her to the fact that he had worn the same expression when she’d broken them out of the genjutsu, and she tried hard not to let herself show how much his lack of faith in her hurt.  

To mask her sudden bout of sadness, she elected to prod them a little, since neither seemed keen to answer her. "Would you prefer to run straight to the Tower or bide our time by the gates?"

Surprisingly, it was Sasuke-kun who replied. "What would you do?" he asked, and Sakura blinked much like Naruto had a few seconds previous, dumbfounded.  _Sasuke-kun_ wanted _her_ opinion?

"You want me to lead?" she asked dumbly, unsure she'd heard correctly due to his unusually considerate question, but hoping against hope that he wouldn’t prove her pessimism right. 

"Hn." the raven replied, shrugging, though a scowl twisted his lips. Then, he proceeded to prove her right, brutally so. "If you lead you’ll set the speed which will ensure that you won't fall behind. And some kind of plan would probably benefit us anyway." and Sakura was torn between being furious that he dismissed her ability so easily, and grudgingly amused, as this at least meant that she was getting to know her teammates better if she could easily predict their responses.

Jerking herself out of her pensive spell, she took a deep breath and tracked back to Sasuke-kun's earlier question, reigning in her emotions as she allowed her analytical mind to take over. "Well, I’d do one of two things…” she began, chancing a look at her boys to find that both were listening attentively. “If I were confident in the superiority of my skills over those of the other candidates, I'd probably hang back, close to the gates and try to pick off teams which have the same idea, hoping that they have the scroll I need." she paused, choosing her next words carefully. In her mind, she’d removed herself from the situation, twisting it into a simple problem similar to that of the test she just wrote, nothing more than an evaluation of different factors and their possible products, the most basic of x+y=z

 _So if x is strength, and y is experience, z will equal hanging back by the gates. However, if x is_ speed _not strength.._. 

"But if I were more confident in my speed and, say..." She continued, thinking out loud as she tried to come up with a ' _y_ ', "say speed and trap-setting, then I'd race to the Tower and set up traps around it, hoping that somebody with the scroll I need will get caught in them." she finished, only then letting herself meet Naruto's literally _sparkling_ gaze. 

"Wow, Sakura-chan,” he breathed, clearly awed. “you probably aced that theory exam, dattebayo!!" and Sakura fought hard not to blush at the praise, which she found came a lot easier when she faced Sasuke-kun glum figure instead. 

She was startled to note that he was looking at her with an unreadable expression in his eyes, but he nodded sharply before she had a chance to study it more thoroughly. "I thought that too." he acquiesced, and Sakura barely reigned in a scoff.

(Genma-san’s dark humour and lack of inhibitions with his laughter as well as his willingness to call people out on their bullshit had been addictive and infectious, and she kept having to remind herself that that was not an aspect of her personality she wanted Sasuke-kun to see).

Still, she tuned in enough to register Sasuke-kun saying, "Dobe, Sakura, show me your weapons pouches." 

Inwardly laughing at how similar this demand was to the request she heard the previous day, Sakura obligingly showed both boys the contents of her pouch, delighting in their shocked expressions, and sending a silent thanks to Genma-san for letting her experience that. (She took smug satisfaction in the fact that Naruto's weapons added up to less than a _third_ of _her_ total.)

Even _Sasuke-kun_ had fewer weapons than her. 

"Alright," the raven nodded, attaching his pouch back to his belt. "we'll go with option two, just as Sakura said – we’ll run as fast as we can, as far as we can, then set traps. We should make camp close to the traps so we can scout and maybe try to lead some teams into them." Sakura nodded in agreement and even Naruto stayed quiet long enough to listen to the instructions and then started rambling on about bad guys and getting as many scrolls as possible and at some point, Sakura just shut him out as white noise as her eyes scanned the foliage before them. It did _not_ look welcoming. 

Then, just as she was considering using one of her bandages as a gag for the loud blond, the gates suddenly opened and a deep gong resounded through the forest, Mitarashi-san’s voice joining it not a second later;

"Run brats, run!" she cackled. "The second stage of the Exams has officially began!!"

And then they were running, and Sakura knew little else but the blur of the trees and the frantic beat of her heart. 

 

* * *

It was a _good plan._

As a paper-ninja, she could admit as much. She had taken into consideration the strengths of her team, their abilities in comparison to the others, as well as factors like the potential complexity of the traps they could set depending on the amount of weapons available to them. If this were a theory exam, Team 7 would've aced it no problem.  _She_ would’ve aced it no problem.

 In retrospect, Sakura should've known that something would inevitably go wrong – they were _Team 7_ after all.

 But even in her worst nightmares, even in the most horrifying situations and various ways in which this Exam could have potentially gone wrong, Sakura had never imagined that one of the _Legendary_ _Sannin_ would appear in the forest. 

 Not only _appear_ , but seem to have a _personal vendetta_ against Sasuke-kun. 

 They had made good progress: though Sakura had initially set the pace, Sasuke-kun then made them push on till Sakura's body clock told her it was around 8 pm in the evening, the darkness quickly setting, her muscles and lungs alike were screaming in agony and her chakra reserves had never been emptier. With six hours of chakra-induced speed, only a few short water breaks in between and the path through the branches minimising the amount of obstacles they stumbled across, her team had made good time.

They made it to where the Tower was in sight, less than half a kilometre before them if Sakura were to estimate. They decided to stop for the night and Sakura was left to find something to eat after surrendering a third of her weapons to Naruto and Sasuke-kun for them to set up the necessary traps. After that, they established a schedule of two hours. First, Sakura kept watch while the boys slept; she cast a False Surroundings genjutsu on the root the boys were using as cover, making it appear as an inconspicuous branch. She would occasionally get up and check the traps to see if anyone was stupid enough to travel at night and get caught in them but was left disappointed each time. Then, when her turn to sleep came, she gratefully smiled at Naruto, crawled under the genjutsu-covered root they'd deemed suitable for cover and promptly fell asleep, exhausted. 

 She woke up to the sound of Naruto's victorious shout, and stilled. She felt groggy enough to realise that she slept for far longer than the agreed four hours, and that in itself was enough to make her snap awake. Carefully, Sakura gathered all the equipment they’d used, then, realising that Sasuke-kun must’ve already joined Naruto, she used her chakra, as per Genma-san's instruction to try and locate her teammates. The sight that greeted her when she arrived at the clearing their chakra had led her to was of a foreign nin desperately trying to parry the barrage of shuriken and kunai set up by Sasuke-kun, while two of his comrades were already on the ground nursing wounds gained from slower reactions. She couldn’t help the sudden wave of vindictive glee that washed over her – her plan had _worked._

 "Naruto, Sakura, check the two on the ground for scrolls." Sasuke-kun ordered when she finally joined them, then, not waiting for their affirmative, he threw himself into the melee of projectiles and with a swift punch, knocked the last genin unconscious. 

Shaking off the mixture of awe and exasperation at her teammate’s actions, Sakura obediently set to her task – she pressed the pressure point on the back of the fallen kunoichi's neck, then, once unconscious, she checked her pockets, absently noting that the team was from Iwagakure. Her hand found a cylindrical object which she pulled out in hopes that it was their much needed Earth scroll, but what came out instead was a scroll not unlike the jutsu scrolls in the library. Torn between curious and disappointed and spurred by something she couldn't quite explain, she shoved the scroll into one of the many pockets of her vest and resumed looking, letting out a dejected sigh when her hand pulled out another scroll, this time a Heaven one.  

 "Got one, but it's Heaven." she announced, rising from the unconscious kunoichi's side. Naruto joined her soon after, his hands empty and a pout on his lips. 

 "Let's hope Sasuke-teme had more luck." he grumbled, and just as he finished, their raven haired teammate joined them, an annoyed 'tch' falling from his lips though there was a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. 

 "I don't need _luck_ , dobe." he sniped, proudly brandishing the Earth scroll they needed. "I got it." 

And then, just as things were looking up, all hell broke loose. 

 It happened so quickly Sakura wasn’t quite sure what exactly transpired, but suddenly, a Grass ninja appeared between the trees, cutting off their only path to the Tower. Before any of them could fully get their bearings, two snakes with bodies the width of the tree trunks sprang towards them, and only one thing was on their minds:

 “Run!” Sasuke-kun yelled and then he was off, and it took all of Sakura’s energy and willpower to keep up with him and not panic.

 But, it seemed that luck was not on their side; sooner than it should’ve been possible given their massive bodies, one of the snakes had caught up to them. Naruto, being the closest to the snakes, cursed and tried desperately to speed up, but the snake sprang and bodily destroyed the next branch the blond was going to push off, leaving him flailing in mid-air, a curse falling from his lips before the snake barrelled into him and threw him in the direction of its partner.

 “Naruto!!” she yelled desperately as her and Sasuke-kun were left staring after their teammate, wincing as the snakes played ping-pong with Naruto as the ball, taking him away from where the two of them were standing. Then, flying through the air and cursing all the while, Naruto’s head knocked against one of the trunks with a resounding thud and he stopped struggling, out cold. 

 “No-!” Sakura choked out, her hand reaching out as if she could somehow reach through the snakes and get to her teammate. She tensed, hand falling to her weapons pouch in the event that the snakes would turn on her, but they seemed content to circle Naruto almost _protectively_ , and with no small degree of effort, Sakura forced her gaze away from the unconscious blond and onto Sasuke-kun. But Sasuke-kun’s gaze was not on Naruto, but on their attacker, the mysterious Grass-nin who stood with a wicked smirk their face and with a jolt, Sakura realised that the ninja was a _woman._

“Who are you?” Sasuke demanded, kunai pointed threateningly at the nin. “What do you want?”

 “My, my, such hostility is truly unnecessary.” The kunoichi drawled, her tongue snaking out, pointed and alarmingly long, unnerving Sakura to the point where she shivered. “Your teammate could be dead, you know.” She observed as if she were merely talking about the weather. “It sounded like he hit his head pretty hard. And yet… you’re standing here, entertaining me with pointless small talk rather than checking his condition. What kind of heartlessness is that, hm, _Sasuke-kun_?”

 At that, Sasuke-kun winced and turned to Sakura. His eyes flickered to Naruto’s prone figure before they settled on her, the intent behind the action clear. The rosette’s eyes widened, not missing the implied command and she paled. He wanted _her_ to get through the two snakes which looked like they could eat her as a pre-dinner snack? Had Sasuke-kun finally gone mad? She’d rather take her chance with the kunoichi!

But not a moment later, he and said kunoichi were engaged in a taijutsu battle so fast Sakura’s eyes struggled to keep up, and she gulped. _Or maybe not._ Her eyes tracked back to the snakes who, to her surprise, were still circling Naruto, and she realised that their job was _keeping her away_ rather than _attacking_ her. The easiest enemy to beat was a divided enemy, and Sakura had to hand it to the Grass-nin – she’d managed to divide them _very_ well.

 Resigning herself to her fate as her eyes focused on her target, Sakura tried to sift through her admittedly limited knowledge of that particular species, annoyed when she kept drawing up a blank; snakes weren’t exactly _common_ animals in Konohagakure, particularly not ones this size – she didn’t think she’d ever read about one that big being seen out in the open unless it was a summon–

  _I’m so stupid._

A _summon._ It was such a simple explanation and yet perfectly explained the size of the reptile, as well as its unusually _tame_ behaviour – summons, at least most of them, were said to be harmless until provoked, or _instructed_ to attack. Sakura spared a brief glance at the Grass kunoichi, wondering why she was so intent on keeping Naruto out of the fight.

 _That’s a mystery for another time._ She chastised herself, once again assessing the situation and trying not to let the hopelessness of it all get to her. _All I have is basic genjutsu, chakra control, and an abundance of explosive tags and smoke bombs, hardly material to wage war against something that size._

And then, as if triggered by that self-deprecating thought, a skeleton of a plan began to form in her mind, and she winced. _It seems like the only option… but it’ll be a_ miracle _if I manage to pull it off._ Her eyes strayed to where Sasuke-kun’s fire jutsu seemed to only irritate the mysterious kunoichi, despite the fact that she should’ve been burned to a crisp long ago. _But I have to try. I have to make the first step towards my nindo._

With that in mind, she took out one of the smoke bombs she bought with Genma-san, this one crimson rather than purple – unlike the others filled with harmless, coloured gas, this one contained chili powder. Sakura’s snake biology was pathetically limited, but a snake was a reptile, and reptiles were famed for their incredibly developed sense of smell.

Still, something made her hesitate. _Even if I_ do _manage to make them temporarily nose-blind, nothing stops them from lashing out in blind rage and confusion._ She argued. _If I get hit by even_ one _of them, I can end up like Naruto. Or_ worse _. And then Sasuke-kun will have to fend the crazy snake lady off by himself._

Sakura hated _not knowing_ something. For a paper-ninja, being unsure of something that could be found in books was a nightmare – just then, she resented the genjutsu scrolls available in the library for not telling her whether illusions would be effective on animals.

_Guess I won’t know till I try._

Nonetheless, she dreaded the possibility of something going terribly wrong, but one look at Naruto’s prone form and Sasuke-kun fighting a clearly losing battle filled her up with grim determination.

_Let’s go!_

* * *

 

Sakura’s plan, all things considered, was painfully simple. So simple, in fact, that it _really shouldn’t have worked._

But as she threw the chili bomb between the summons, the gas temporarily obscuring their vision, she mentally apologised to Naruto if he happened to breathe it. But, that aside, it had provided what she had no doubt was _hell_ for the snakes’ noses and that distraction was enough for Sakura to progress to step 2: the signs for an internal-effect genjutsu came to her easily, and she worked the illusion till she was as sure as she could be that the snakes believed Naruto was slumped against a tree a good twenty metres away from where he _actually_ was.

Then, she sprang.

Sakura ran like the devil himself was on her heels, not trusting her hasty genjutsu nor the chili power to keep the snakes occupied for long. And indeed, her pessimism was right: not ten seconds after she reached Naruto and hefted him over her shoulder did an enraged hiss reach her ears. She spared a quick glance at the two snakes which appeared to have recovered from the chili powder and were temporarily frozen but she knew better than to trust their stillness. Making sure her grip on Naruto was secure, she powered off towards one of the trees a safe distance away from Sasuke-kun’s battle and the snakes, scaling it easily and placing the blond on the branch, his back propped against the massive trunk. She checked his pulse, grateful when it thudded, weaker but _there_ against her fingers. She still had no way of ascertaining the condition of what she had no doubt was a nasty concussion, but at least he was up and away from the _goddamn snakes._

Then, a thought struck her.

She couldn’t help Sasuke-kun with the Grass kunoichi if she had to keep glancing back to make sure the snakes were not advancing on them. So, the snakes had to go. But _how_?

Thoughts running wild, hoping against hope that her luck would last, because what she was planning was even more reckless than the previous stunt, Sakura took out four kunai and explosive tags and carefully wrapped the tags around the knives’ hilts. Then, she reconsidered, compensating for the sheer _madness_ of the idea and wrapped another tag around each. _Just in case,_ she assured herself.

She knew that she didn’t have anything strong nor sharp enough to cut through those scales enough to disembowel, but all the kunai really needed to do was lodge themselves in the snakeskin long enough for the tags to detonate. After that, the power of four tags per snake should take care of the damn reptiles enough for them not to go after Naruto, and leave Sakura to go help Sasuke-kun.

She moved to a branch which granted her a clearer shot at the snakes, then, praying that her marginally better than average aim would be good enough for the kunai to hit their target from such a distance, she launched them. Sakura watched the knives sail true and bury themselves to the hilt, two in each snake, then, before they had a chance to slither away, she pulsed chakra into the tags and watched the snakes explode in a flurry of scales and guts.

Wincing at the carnage that appeared a second before the snakes ‘poof’ed out of existence, Sakura was finally able to focus her full attention of Sasuke-kun.

And what she saw _horrified_ her.

He was losing. Badly so. He was on his knees, out of breath and with innumerable scratches and cuts on the patches of skin not covered by fabric of his clothes. The kunoichi was almost untouched in comparison, but the side of her face appeared to be peeling away, a golden eye replacing one of the onyx ones and Sakura got the feeling that something was _really very wrong_ with that woman. Despite the fact that her sense of self-preservation was telling her to run as far as possible away from the battle, to the Tower, to the Academy, _anywhere_ but stay where she was, Sakura kept moving forward, drawing closer and closer to Sasuke-kun. She intended to hide and bide her time, perhaps throw up and illusion and grab Sasuke-kun and run, or at least strategize, but no dice.

The Grass-nin moved towards Sasuke-kun, a kunai in her hand and intentions clear, and Sakura’s body moved before her mind could process what she was doing.

Hands flying through the seals, Sakura prayed that she had enough chakra for her trick to work. Then, she was crouching in front of Sasuke-kun, her hand sending three shuriken flying at the kunoichi while another held a kunai in a defensive position. Watching the Grass ninja retreat, Sakura only hoped the forced movement was enough to mask the tell-tale swirling of leaves that accompanied the Hell-Viewing Technique, but if everything went according to plan, the woman was already caught in her False Surroundings genjutsu.

Layering her illusions had been something that she’d read about in the scrolls and begged Genma-san to let her practise on him – the scrolls seemed confident that even if her opponent managed to break the first layer (in this case, Sakura went for the Hell-Viewing illusion) it was _very un_ likely they would notice the second layer.

But Sakura was soon presented with even more evidence that the woman was _definitely not who she seemed_ because not a second after her feet touched the ground from her forced retreat, mismatched eyes stared at Sakura with an unprecedented degree of lucidity and interest.

Most importantly, they were not the eyes of somebody who’d just had their worst fear play before their eyes.

“Ohoho,” the woman chuckled, her gaze on Sakura feeling perversely invasive. “an illusionist in _Konoha_? How unusual!” and Sakura hated the casual tone, the almost childish playfulness, but she kept her mouth shut and her kunai in place. “But you’re nought but an ant in my way right now, little girl.” She smirked, and this time, Sakura did not manage to mask her shiver. “Though if you truly want to register as a threat next time, you’ll need to learn that sometimes, you ought to dig a little deeper, because _love_ can be a thousand times more terrifying than fear _itself_.”

Sakura knew two things in that instant: one, the woman was clearly _not a_ genin and most definitely clinically insane. And two; that she had to have noticed her glance back at Sasuke-kun, because her smirk grew to obscene sizes and turned openly malicious. “You may doubt it now, but if you’d listened to _your_ fear just now, you would’ve already been at the Tower, safe and secure and far away from _here_.” And the rosette paled, because they were the exact thoughts that had ran through her mind not five minutes previous. But the kunoichi wasn’t finished, oh no. “But instead,” she continued, her eyes seemingly seeing right _through_ Sakura. “you’re here, your love for your _darling teammate_ making you put yourself in a situation you _know_ will not end in your favour.”

Sakura grit her teeth, not deigning the woman with a response and resolved to hold her kunai tighter, inwardly sighing in relief when Sasuke-kun twitched behind her, his hands coming up to pick himself off of the ground.

For the first time since she’d _stupidly_ placed herself between the kunoichi and her teammate, Sakura saw a hint of irritation cross her face. “Now I believe I’ve spent long enough educating the youth of this worthless Village. Move aside.” The last words came out as a hiss, and Sakura found herself knocked aside so hard her back collided painfully with a tree trunk, stars dancing in her vision, but as she blinked to clear it, she paused.

Because it seemed that what had knocked her aside was the kunoichi’s _neck._

Stifling her gag reflex at the inhuman body modification, Sakura’s vision cleared enough for her to realise that the woman appeared to be… _biting Sasuke-kun?_ And then, a scream of agony so pronounced that Sakura’s body was moving despite the resounding ache in her ribs ripped through the air. The rosette was at Sasuke-kun’s side in a heartbeat, falling to her knees beside him, her eyes rising to send a look in equal parts angry and terrified at the woman who appeared to be melting into the branches.

“ _My work here is done. Sasuke will seek me out soon enough.”_

And Sakura glanced down to see three black tomoe appear on Sasuke-kun’s neck, and his last scream faded out into a grunt which made Sakura’s blood run cold;

“ _Orochi…maru…”_

* * *

 

Initially, Sakura had planned to wait. She hoped to find cover and bide her time, secure in the knowledge that they had their scrolls and at least three more days in which to get to the Tower, which left ample time for at least _one_ of her boys to wake up.

But then Sasuke-kun had to _ruin it_ and say _that name._ Sakura was no expert, but even she knew the basic history of her Village and the top names in their Bingo Book, and the more she thought about it, the more her dread grew because it _made sense_. She had been correct in her earlier observation – snakes were not popular summon animals, if one was even honoured and powerful enough to _have_ a summoning contract. And the last known shinobi to have the allegiance of the Great Manda and his kin _was_ Orochimaru, one of the Legendary Sannin. Just what, Sakura despaired, what could he possibly have gained from coming to Konoha, missing-nin as he was? And why did the seal he’d branded Sasuke-kun with brim with malevolent chakra so dark that Sakura shivered every time she focused on it?

Those were questions not meant to be answered by genin. She needed somebody of higher rank, Kakashi-sensei, Genma-san, even Morino-san of the first exam, someone she knew would have the answers, and if not, then at least alert someone who _did._

But with both Naruto _and_ Sasuke-kun unconscious, the Tower in sight, and Sakura herself nursing what she suspected to be a moderate concussion, the odds were not in her favour. And if she wanted to have someone give her some answers, there was only one option really open to her; she had to make for the Tower. Simple enough, but it posed one significant issue – even circulating chakra into her muscles as she had been doing since they entered the forest, she wasn’t strong enough to safely carry both boys and move at the same time. That left her with even _worse_ odds – all she really could do was to transport them to the Tower _individually_.

_And that would mean leaving one of them here._

Unbidden, the hopelessness of the situation overtook her and she collapsed beside Sasuke-kun, her head in her hands, fingers pulling painfully on the pink tresses. _What good was the last month?_ She despaired, _I’m just as_ useless _as I was during Wave!!_

_“I trust you.”_

Sakura froze, the fingers in her hair seizing up as familiar words resounded through her mind.

“ _Make sure to come back in one piece, yeah?”_

_Genma-san…_

Some of her resolve rushed back, and she clung to it, desperate for a flicker of light in a dark tunnel:

What was another obstacle in her path? What difference did it make if she cast an illusion over their training grounds or a forest? What changed if she was trying to conceal a body rather than the kunai that Genma-san had her practise with?

Nothing.

An illusion was an illusion, and, as things stood at that particular moment in time, genjutsu was Sakura’s best and, perhaps _only_ option. She cast a hopeful look at the setting sun, then at the treetops, above which she could clearly see the red brick of the Tower.

_If I hurry up, I might even get both of them there before nightfall._

Decision made, Sakura hefted herself to her feet and assessed Sasuke-kun’s still form, the first couple of steps of her most risky plan to date already forming in her mind. Increasing the amount of chakra she was circulating to her arms, Sakura bent down and lifted the raven before throwing him over her shoulder, for once not bothering with being gentle. She tracked back to the tree she’d left Naruto on and sat Sasuke-kun at its roots, before she scaled it and repeated the process with Naruto. When both unconscious boys were supported by the trunk, Sakura looked around in search of a root she could conceal a body under.

_There._

And before she could reconsider, she was bending down and hefting Naruto over her shoulder as she made her way to the root. She shoved the blond under, piling some branches and leaves to cover him physically as much as she could before she stepped back and ran through the handsigns for the Double False Surroundings technique. As the caster, she could see through the layers and she hoped that for once, subtle misdirection would work better than blatant altering of the surroundings. But she couldn’t dwell on it too much. As she made her way back to Sasuke-kun, she pulled out a kunai and carved the Haruno symbol into the trunk, small enough that it wouldn’t be noticed unless someone knew she was there. Then, she sent one final, desperate prayer to whoever was listening, threw Sasuke-kun over her shoulder and _ran._

* * *

 

Lady luck was on her side as Sakura managed to make it to the Tower without any major incidents; the only downside was that her hands were now covered in burns from stinging nettles, but she was lucky enough that her new outfit covered most of her body. The same could not be said for Sasuke-kun, but Sakura reasoned he would be more inclined to forgive her if he found out that she did it to hide from a group of genin from the Sound Village.

And then, a pair of double doors was before her, and Sakura sighed, breaking the seal that was holding them closed as she stumbled inside. The room was empty, walls made of stone and bare save for a single tapestry that hung on the furthest wall, but Sakura didn’t have the time to pay attention to it just then. Instead, she deposited Sasuke-kun on the ground, making sure his back was propped comfortably against one of the side walls, smacked an explosive tag to the exterior of the door just in case, and then she was off.

Finding Naruto took her less than fifteen minutes, but by the time she reached him and dismissed the illusion on the root, she could feel tendrils of black creeping up from the corners of her eyes; she’d used up far too much chakra.

 _Not yet._ She told herself, _I need to get Naruto to safety. I can’t pass out just_ yet.

This time, with Naruto slung over her shoulder and Sasuke-kun safe, she didn’t hold back; Sakura sprinted quicker than she’d ever ran before, and she was back inside the room less than half an hour after she left. It was with unimaginable relief that she dropped Naruto beside Sasuke-kun, carefully checking both boys’ pulse before she allowed herself a few minutes to catch her breath. The night of the second day was nearing when she was running, and she picked herself off the ground long enough to take the explosive tag off and shut the door. Feeling safer than she had since this whole nightmarish exam began, she slid down the wall till she was sitting between the boys, the stress, both physical and mental, of the last two days finally catching up on her.

But there was still one thing that niggled on her mind, and Sakura pried her eyes open and carefully appraised the tapestry at the front of the room. A second later, she collapsed back against the wall, fatigue and annoyance triggering her unpleasant side to come out. “What is it with ninja and riddles?” She whined, ignoring the fact that there was nobody present who could answer her. Sakura sent another glare at the tapestry as she struggled to sit up to study it in more detail.

“If qualities of Heaven are your desire, acquire wisdom to take your mind higher.” She read out, then snorted. “Not cryptic at all.” She grumbled, sarcasm drooping off her every word, but she forced herself to continue regardless. “If Earth qualities are what you lack, train your body, prepare to attack. When Heaven and Earth are opened together, this perilous path will become righteous forever. This-” Sakura frowned and read through the entire text again to make sure she wasn’t being unusually obtuse and there _really was_ a character missing. Groaning in frustration, she opted to ignore it for the time being and kept reading. “This _something_ is the secret way that guides us to this path today. That’s it?” puzzled, she read the text over one more time, not liking the fact that there was only one way that her mind could come up with to deal with this as it was far from favourable.

 _But why make us carry these scrolls all the way here under clear orders not to open them, only to make us open them once we get here?_ She mused, a frown pulling on her face as she tried to find some method in the madness. _Riddle-loving maniacs, damn them all._

Still, only one possible solution stood before her, and she took out the scrolls, laying them down in front of her. _Here goes._ As quickly as she could, she unravelled the Earth scroll before moving onto Heaven, and when both were open, she squinted at the writing. _Is that… ‘man’? And that’s the character for… ‘here’?_ suddenly, the paper started smoking, and the puzzle pieces fell together in Sakura’s mind. She sprang to her feet, exhaustion shoved to the back of her mind, kicked the scrolls as far away from her and the boys as she could and put herself between her teammates and the scrolls, knees bent with a kunai in each hand. Just in time too, for no sooner had she done that did a silhouette appear in the smoke that erupted from the scrolls. Sakura’s mind absently registered that what the scrolls contained was a summoning jutsu drawn out on _two_ scrolls, rather than one as was common which was why she didn’t immediately recognise it. Then, her eyes fell on the figure as the smoke cleared and she gasped.

“Iruka-sensei?!”

Her Academy sensei seemed as surprised to see her as she was to see him, concern clear in his eyes as he eyed the unconscious boys behind her and the kunai she had yet to put away. “Sakura? Why are the boys unconscious? Are _you_ alright? What happened?” needing a moment to process the questions, the rosette busied herself with putting away her weapons, slightly embarrassed to have pulled them out on her old sensei. When she was ready, she sighed, sagging with relief.

“If I were to guess, Naruto’s got a concussion.” She admitted. “I probably shouldn’t have moved him, but I had no idea how to treat it. Sasuke-kun… it looks like some form of fuinjutsu, but it’s not something I’ve ever seen before. As for me, I’m alright, I think.” But as the words left her mouth, she swayed, the spots of black that had taken permanent residence on the edges of her vision completely obscuring her sight for a moment. When her vision focused again and Iruka-sensei’s wide eyes came into view, a wry smile made its way onto her face despite her condition. “Would it suffice to say that you have a serious security breach?” she asked mirthlessly, but didn’t hear his response, for not a second later, her knees buckled under her and she was swallowed by darkness.

* * *

When Sakura came to, it was to the steady beeping of a heart monitor and a feeling like something had died in her mouth. She pried open her eyes and immediately winced, the bright light feeling like a thousand tiny kunai stabbing into her retinas. “Too bright…” she groaned, and almost didn’t recognise her own voice.

“Ah, awake at last, Sakura-chan.” She recognised that voice, and when she forced her eyes open, wincing all the while, Kakashi-sensei sat at her bedside, signature book missing. “You gave Iruka quite a scare, blacking out like that. And you didn’t even wait to tell your sensei you’ve passed.” Though there was an accusation buried under the cheerful façade, Sakura was too tired to deal with that just then and latched onto the banter like a lifeline.

“Sorry, Kakashi-sensei.” She replied, trying for a grin but ending up with more of a grimace. “What’s the correct protocol when one of the Legendary Sannin attacks you and places some foreign fuinjutsu on your teammate?” she asked and was rewarded with a slight widening of her sensei’s visible eye.

“Seems like you’re up to speed with your history, hm, Sakura-chan?” and Sakura didn’t have the heart to tell him that more than her studying history texts, Genma-san had let her look at his Bingo Book when she told him of their mission to Wave, and Orochimaru was one of the highest-ranked ninja there. So she just nodded instead. “As for proper protocol…” Kakashi-sensei’s visible eye flitted to the other side of the room, and when Sakura followed his gaze she nearly jumped out of the bed.

“H-Hokage-sama!” she gasped, feeling her face go red. “Forgive me! I didn’t realise-!”

“No harm done.” Sarutobi replied and Sakura somehow felt chastised rather than relieved. The second stage proctor, Mitarashi-san stood beside him and Sakura spared the woman a brief glance before the Hokage spoke again. “Now, I realise you’ve only just woken up, but could you tell us exactly what happened while you were in that forest?”

Just as she was about to nod, alarm bells went off in her mind and she whipped around to face Kakashi-sensei. “Sasuke-kun and Naruto-!”

“-Are both fine and resting, as _you_ should be.” The jounin cut her off, his visible eye crinkling slightly. “Naruto’s concussion’s been treated and I sealed up Sasuke’s seal myself after you brought them in. Both have been demanding to see you, actually.”

Feeling like a weight was lifted off her shoulders, Sakura nodded and began her tale.

She mentioned the plan they came up with, the successful trap they managed to set, and the mysterious Grass kunoichi that appeared out of nowhere. She briefly mentioned her scuffle with the snakes and Sasuke-kun _losing_ to the woman, glossed over her attempt at ensnaring the kunoichi-turned-Orochimaru in an illusion, and detailed how his neck appeared to become a snake in its own right as he bit Sasuke-kun resulting in that mysterious seal. She then explained her decision to get the boys to the Tower and stopped when she got to the point where all three were safely inside.

When she finished, her story was met with silence, broken only by Kakashi-sensei’s sigh. “Iruka needs to be commended for his teaching of giving mission reports.” When she sent him a puzzled look, he smiled. “This is the closest you’ve gotten to your first solo mission report, Sakura-chan. Don’t you want to gloat a little, dazzle us?”

“That’s enough, Kakashi-kun.” The Sandaime interrupted, saving Sakura from having to answer her sensei’s bizarre question. “Haruno-chan’s report was sufficient and confirms what we already thought. Let her rest.” And he made for the door, Mitarashi-san a respectful step behind him, but when the Hokage walked out, she stopped at the door.

“I know we all had some doubts about giving you a genin team, Hatake,” she began to Sakura’s utter confusion, “but whatever you taught them about comradeship and teamwork, this one’s got it down pat.” She spared the rosette a glance and tried for what she knew was meant to be a smile, but like Sakura before her, it turned into more of a grimace. “Good job, kid.”

When she left, Kakashi-sensei turned to her, but instead of comfort, the look in his eye unnerved her. “Now that that’s over,” he murmured, before he turned serious. “I don’t think I need to tell you how lucky you are that nobody who could break genjutsu stumbled across Naruto, do I?” when she shook her head, hindsight making her feel shame rather than pride at her decision, she was startled to feel his hand land on her head and ruffle her hair like he sometimes did to the boys. “That said, I’ve got to admit, I’m proud. Out of all of you, I thought you’d be the least receptive to my old man teachings about the importance of teammates, but I’m glad to be proven wrong. Now come on, if you’re up to it, we’ll go see the boys. Kami knows they’ve been nagging me almost incessantly since you’ve gotten here.”

And though Sakura laughed with him at the image of Sasuke-kun _nagging,_ a thought struck her that made her pause. “Kakashi-sensei… how long exactly have I been here?” she asked, mind whirring in an attempt to work it out.

“Nearly two days. The time-limit for the second stage is almost up.” and when she paled, her horror at the fact that she’s been in bed for almost longer than they were in the forest clear on her face, he chuckled. “On that note, your plan before entering the forest and those traps? That was good work, Sakura. A tactician would be proud.” And Sakura couldn’t quite hide the blush that his words caused, so she busied herself with detaching the IV and heart monitor and swinging her legs off the bed.

“Let’s go see the boys, sensei.”

* * *

Their reunion brought a small smile to Kakashi’s face. When news of Orochimaru’s presence in the Forest of Death spread to the jounin sensei, he’d been scared. Sakura may have head the sharpest mind out of the rookie kunoichi, Sasuke may have been an Uchiha, and Naruto may have been the kyuubi’s jinchuuriki and the son of a Hokage, but they were still just _children._ The idea of the Legendary Sannin being after one of his students had made Kakashi’s stomach churn. Still, he had not expected for Sakura to step up as she had, get the boys to safety and even – from what he’d pieced together from Sasuke’s reluctant account and Sakura’s own glossed-over version – even _attempt to engage Orochimaru herself._

It seemed that there was more to his kunoichi that he’d initially assumed, and Kakashi didn’t like to have his judgement proven wrong. He’d just have to keep track of her during the Preliminaries.

Speaking of the Preliminaries, Kakashi turned to his team who’d taken to giving each other noogies and called out, “C’mon kiddies, time to see what’s in store for you in the third stage!”

Their indignant shouts at the nickname followed him all the way to the arena.

* * *

Sakura never quite believed that Team 7 could really become a unit – they were too different, too focused on their own goals, with too incompatible personalities to ever manage to work seamlessly together. But when she watched Naruto give Sasuke-kun a noogie, then squealed as the raven pulled her in too, she couldn’t help but rethink her view. Because both boys had _thanked her_ for bringing them to the Tower when they finally saw her, even if Sasuke-kun had to be elbowed by Naruto to say the words. She couldn’t help but feel that they had grown closer over the time spent in the Forest, particularly if she compared them to how they were during the mission to Wave.

Especially when she stood among the other six teams who’d made it through the second stage she couldn’t help but feel hopeful: almost everybody else looked scuffed and scratched and bone-weary, as if they’d made it to the Tower in the nick of time and had hardly any time to rest. She listened to the Hokage’s speech, a frown pulling at her brows the more he said, feeling slightly disillusioned. How could anybody expect peaceful alliances if even the Hokage said that usefulness and honour came before friendship? But she didn’t have long to ponder before a proctor appeared and in a cough-filled speech announced that preliminaries would be held since so many of them had passed the second stage. Sakura sighed at the explanation, not liking the ‘fight to sudden death or till severely incapacitated’ rule, but she brightened when the proctor declared that he’d step in to prevent any unnecessary loss of life. And then, they were all ushered upstairs as the first match was announced, Sasuke-kun looking eager and relaxed and Sakura felt her nerves dissipate too as she settled in to watch what would undoubtedly be a good show.

* * *

After Sasuke-kun won and joined her, Naruto and Kakashi-sensei on the stands, the names started flashing again, each one meaning less to her than the other.

_Zaku Abumi vs. Shino Aburame_

_Misumi Tsurgi vs. Kankuro_

And then-

_Sakura Haruno vs. Ino Yamanaka_

Sakura met Ino’s eyes and a silent understanding passed between them. This wasn’t about Sasuke-kun anymore; this was about them, and who was better. Sending her boys a small smile at Naruto’s loud encouragement and Kakashi-sensei’s quieter ‘good luck’, she moved towards the stairs, Ino doing the same. But then, just as she was preparing herself for a physical and verbal showdown between her and her childhood friend, Genma-san’s words flashed through her mind.

_“They are your strengths. Play to them.”_

_“If it should come to a one on one battle, end it as quickly as you can.”_

_“You’ll be fine.”_

_“I trust you.”_

And something in her changed, her resolve strengthened, and her intent to win and prove herself won over the slight nostalgia she felt at facing her childhood friend.

 _Sorry Ino,_ she apologised, _change of plans. I’ve got someone other than Sasuke-kun that I can’t disappoint._ She met her rival downstairs, not even registering her taunts as a particular phrase kept echoing in her mind.

_“-end it as quickly as you can.”_

She would. For Genma-san, for all those weeks he spent with her, she would win this. Ino had always been her equal and sometimes superior in some areas of their kunoichi training; but this time, Sakura had the element of surprise on her side.

_“-as quickly as you can.”_

_“-quickly…”_

And when the proctor said ‘Go’, Sakura didn’t wait around, didn’t let the wave of nostalgia stop her in her tracks – she _pounced._

* * *

The smoke bomb caught everyone off-guard, Ino in particular, as the blonde had been mid-taunt at that particular moment. But Sakura didn’t pause, didn’t wait; she sought out her chakra as she had been instructed and imagined a thick, grey woollen blanket being thrown over it. Then, just in case, her hands flew through the False Surroundings technique but she twisted it at the last second so _only_ Ino was affected, and then, closing her eyes and seeking the blond out with her chakra rather than her senses, Sakura _moved_ , taking great care that her footsteps were nigh silent till she was right behind Ino. Her hand dove into her pouch and pulled out two kunai, one with and one without an explosive tag. She transferred the untagged kunai to her left hand and pressed it against Ino’s jugular, while the tagged knife was sent a good ten metres away from them and detonated.

She’d chosen one with a slightly smaller explosive power than most of the ones in her arsenal – she didn’t want the arena to crumble, after all, she only wanted to clear the cloud of purple smoke left over from the smoke bomb she’d thrown at the start.

When the smoke cleared, Sakura dismissed her illusion and Ino flinched, only then realising her position. Sakura briefly wondered if the blonde would try to fight out of her hold, but Ino only grumbled and slumped, resigned.

Valiantly ignoring the shocked faces of the onlookers, particularly the disbelieving expressions on Sasuke-kun and Naruto’s faces, she turned to the proctor, hoping that he’d deem Ino incapacitated enough to end the fight before Sakura was forced to press her kunai in any deeper.

Luckily, the proctor seemed to have read her mind as he coughed before announcing; “I declare this match over, with Haruno Sakura as the winner.” Sakura allowed herself a small smile as she released Ino, but her happiness didn’t last long.

“The _hell_ was that, Forehead!?”

* * *

Up in the stands, the jounin sensei seemed to share Ino’s confusion.

"I didn't know you taught your genin chakra suppression, Kakashi." Asuma remarked, not having missed the brief period during which even _he_ couldn't quite sense the pinkette. Kurenai turned an attentive ear, as did Gai, and, despite his mask, nobody missed Kakashi's frown.

 "That's because I _didn't_ teach her that." was the Copy-Nin’s sharp response, his eyes trained on his student.

 “She used genjutsu too.” Kurenai cut in, her scarlet eyes questioning. “Supplementary at best, but the timing of the application was immaculate. And I may be a recent jounin, but that must’ve beaten some record – it was one of the quickest battles I’ve ever seen. Don’t really know if you could call it a _battle_ , no offense, Asuma.” She added cautiously, drawing a small chuckle from the man.

 “None taken. I don’t even think _Ino_ expected that, and those two were best friends at some point.” All three adults turned to where the blonde was making her way up the stairs and appeared to be taking animatedly with Sakura, though ‘talking’ may have been a bit of an understatement.

 “-and where do you get off hiding genjutsu from me all the way through the Academy? I thought we were friends!”

“Ino,” Sakura tried, using the moment the blonde paused to take a breath to try and explain herself, but Ino wasn’t having it.

 “Not to mention you made me look stupid in front of Sasuke-kun!” she continued her rant, “Honestly, Forehead, when did you get _better than me_?” 

But Sakura was saved from answering by Naruto as he bounded up to her with hugs and congratulations. “Hey hey, Sakura-chan, you were awesome!!" he cheered as she regained her balance after the tackle-hug. “The lady over there said you might've beaten the record for the quickest win!!" 

Sakura's surprised eyes flitted to Kakashi-sensei for confirmation, and the jounin quickly hid his frustration and offered her his signature eye crinkle in response. "That she did." he admitted. "By the way, those were some interesting moves you had there, Sakura-chan." he didn't miss Asuma and Kurenai's knowing looks at his compliment; they both knew that it was aimed to get the pinkette to talk about who'd taught her a _jounin level_ technique. 

But then again, if Sakura were the type to boast, she'd have gotten along splendidly with Naruto from the start; as it was, she merely nodded, a tiny smile pulling at her lips at his words. "Thanks, Kakashi-sensei." she murmured, nodding in acknowledgement, then her attention shifted back to Ino, who had waited patiently up until that point before she dug into the pinkette with renewed vigour.

Kakashi sighed. He’d resigned himself to keeping better track of his female student, though there was a twinge of bitterness at Asuma’s words. Did the other jounin really think that _Kakashi_ had taught her that? If he did, then Asuma really didn’t know him at all – Kakashi would never, ever teach any of his students techniques which were bound to land them in a wet-works squad before their fifteenth birthdays. _Particularly_ not Sakura-chan.

But somebody _had_ , and they’d done it in such a way that she managed to keep it a secret, managed to lull him into a false sense of security that she wouldn’t try anything too ambitious to better herself at least till the exams were over. Kakashi would have serious words with whoever it was who’d taught her that, but he was forced to abandon his plotting when another familiar name popped up on the screen.

_Kiba Inuzuka vs. Naruto Uzumaki_

* * *

 

The rest of the fights verged between embarrassing and terrifying. Sakura decided that even Zabuza had been tame in comparison to the redhead from Suna and she nearly cried at the state of his opponent when the match was over. It’s not that he was weak that he lost, she realised, because from what she’d seen, Rock Lee was far from weak. It was that the other boy was simply a monster.

Nonetheless, all of the fights were soon over, and the victors were called downstairs and instructed to pluck a piece of paper from a basket.

Sakura drew out number 8, and she frowned. Then, when the Hokage had them read out their numbers, the purpose became clear, and Morino-san only clarified her guess; still, the pairings he announced sent shivers down her spine.

Naruto had the Hyuuga boy, and Sasuke-kun had the scary redhead from Suna – already, Sakura was worrying for her boys, but then, her pairing was announced and she froze.

_Temari._

Her mind flashed back to the battle between her and Tenten, how easily she’d destroyed the weapons mistress without breaking a sweat. But then, she reasoned, that’s what happened when two people who favoured long-distance fights clashed; one technique would inevitably prove stronger than the other. Then, another thought came to mind;

_I hope Genma-san can be persuaded to train me if I buy him dinner again._


	5. Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the month before the final stage of the exams proves challenging, entertaining and emotionally and physically trying all at once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> after a bit of thought and a very helpful comment, I realise that I miscalculated with the timings in the last chapter, so I went ahead and changed it - initially, I wrote that Sasuke made them run till 11pm, now I changed it to 8pm. assuming they entered the Forest at 5pm, three hours is still more than enough time for a five km chakra-enhanced run, even when dodging creepy-crawlies the size of buildings and other kids out to kill you. sorry for that.
> 
> now, in this chapter, there's a lot of weapon jargon, so here's a good way to wrap your head around it:  
> weapons ref: http://s92.photobucket.com/user/Narume13/media/Weapons/Japanese_Weaponry_by_Kobra_Kan_by_w.jpg.html
> 
> Jakuniku Kyōshoku means 'the weak are meat, the strong eat' which is an idiomatic phrase meaning 'survival of the fittest' essentially. 
> 
> so far, the way I've written Sakura is by taking the bare bones of her character from Narutopedia and twisting it to my will. in the anime at the beginning, she's shy, love-struck, with a volatile temper, good brains and a bat-shit crazy chakra control. in here, the enamoration in Sasuke translates into a determination of sorts, so it's actually something useful. 
> 
> and I don't hate Kakashi, btw, i'm just very much not a fan of his treatment of his team in the anime, especially of Sakura. 
> 
> also, though i'm in no way up to date with the movies, I assure you that Sakura's parents don't share anything with their canon counterparts but their names. I just didn't want to create unnecessary OCs cause i'm shit with names. 
> 
> (leave me and my love of underappreciated minor characters alone xD)

_Sakura,_

_I’m taking Sasuke for a month of training outside the Village; he’ll need it if he wants to face Gaara. I’ve organised a sensei for Naruto who’ll go over the fundamentals with him and teach him chakra control so he won’t waste as much. I want_ you _to relax, go over your basics, take it easy – you’ve had a difficult time in the Forest and you have to let yourself recuperate._

_See you in a month,_

_-Your darling sensei_

“What.”

 

The word was flat, blunt, and Sakura didn’t know which would be the victor from the emotions warring within her; anger or desperation.

 

A moment later, anger won.

 

“ _What?!_ ”

 

She knew Kakashi-sensei would take Sasuke-kun under his wing; that much was obvious to anyone who’d spent even _five minutes_ in his presence or saw how he looked at the Uchiha. But for him to provide a teacher for _Naruto_ but not for _her_ when _both_ of them advanced to the final round? That was not right. Sakura’s fingers clenched in an attempt to quell her anger, effectively crumpling the note still held in her hand. “’Recuperate’ my _ass!_ ” she hissed, and all of a sudden the anger morphed into something cooler, more stable; “I’ll show you, sensei.” She promised the crumpled ball of paper in her grasp. “I’ll show you the extent of my ‘basics’.” The anger had stabilised, cooled, and instead of a raging inferno, she felt the familiar flame of determination light up within her once again. She shoved the note into her pocket, grabbed her wallet and snuck out of the window.

 

After the match-ups for the next round had been announced, they were safely led out of the Forest of Death and dismissed after being given the time and location they were expected to turn up at for the finals.

 

That was three days ago.

 

The first day, Sakura stayed home, took a long bath to thoroughly de-Forest herself and went downstairs to cook dinner for her parents. To say the atmosphere was _tense_ during the meal would be like saying Kakashi-sensei had time-management issues: in other words, a _complete understatement_. Sakura’s parents were civilian to a fault – her father was a retired policeman who now worked as bureaucrat while her mother was a performer; an actress, a singer, a model – beautiful and feminine and _jaded to the core_ the second she found out her daughter wanted to be a paid assassin.

 

Needless to say, neither were thoroughly accepting of her chosen career path.

 

Most of the time, Sakura managed to avoid them enough to dodge a direct confrontation, but sometimes, her mother’s frustration that she could not make her only child follow in her footsteps won out and jabs and accusations sharper than the edge of a knife would be thrown her way.

 

And Haruno Mebuki knew how to make them _hurt._

At dinner, when she couldn’t stand the silence anymore, Sakura carefully broached the subject of the upcoming Exams. “I… I might be up for an advancement in the ranks soon, hahaue, chichiue.” She announced meekly, eyes not meeting either of her parents’ gazes.

 

“And what, pray tell, does an advancement mean for _your kind_?” her mother demanded, and Sakura flinched. _Her kind_ meant shinobi, and it had been that way since she’d graduated the Academy – it seemed that up until she was handed her headband, Mebuki had still believed that her daughter would see things her way and fade back into civilian ranks. “I doubt it means a _pay rise._ ”

 

She chanced a glance at her father but he was entirely focused on the sukiyaki she’d prepared, and Sakura would’ve nearly believed he wasn’t listening if his gaze hadn’t sharpened the moment he heard ‘pay rise’. She stifled a sigh.

 

“A-actually, hahaue, it does mean a pay-rise. Chunin – which is the next rank from the one I’m at right now – they go on more dangerous missions so they get paid more. Like that time I got back from the Land of Waves!” she brightened at the example, remembering how surprised and pleased her parents had been when she showed them the money she got for her month of absence. “It would’ve normally gone to somebody much higher in the ranks, but because we didn’t know till after we set off how dangerous it would be and we completed it nonetheless, we got the appropriate pay.” She hastened to explain.

 

Her mother looked contemplative. “So the more often you put your neck on the line, the more money you get?” she asked in disbelief and Sakura almost thought she heard _concern_ in her voice.

 

“Essentially, yes.” She admitted, then winced and decided to expand slightly. “But it’s not like they _force_ you to go on those missions when you’re unprepared – this is why I was absent last week. I was at the Chunin Exams, which are meant to test if you’re skilled enough to be undertake the more dangerous mission and still come back relatively safely.” She clarified, at which her mother frowned thoughtfully.

 

“Like a performance review?” her father murmured and Sakura nearly hugged the man. “Exactly!” she nodded instead, a small smile on her face.

 

“Tell me more about those exams.” Her mother ordered and Sakura gulped.

 

“W-well, it’s divided into four stages.” She began carefully. “The first one was a theory exam, then the second stage was a survival exercise in a forest meant to simulate a real mission, and the third and fourth stages are combat. And… I’m through to the fourth stage.”

 

“You got through combat?” Mebuki questioned with no small degree of surprise. Her eyes scanned her daughter critically, from her inherited pink hair to her frail figure. “But your Academy teacher always said you were _hopeless_ at combat.” Sakura winced. Her mother certainly didn’t mince her words, but worse yet was that the rosette _knew_ that Mebuki’s surprise was not unfounded. She _still was_ hopeless at close-combat.

 

“I, um, I had a really good teacher.” She admitted quietly, not liking it when her father’s eyes sharpened and rose to meet hers.

 

“It wasn’t that _Hatake man_ , was it?” and although Sakura knew that if worst came to worst, her taijutsu – as appalling as it was – would still be enough to handle a _civilian_ , having Haruno Kizashi’s intense stare on her, almost _daring_ her to disagree still sent shivers down her spine. She didn’t quite know what transpired between her parents and Kakashi-sensei, but she got the distinct expression that the man had not made a very good impression on them.

 

“N-no.” she replied, shrinking in on herself when two pairs of piercing eyes shot to her. “Shiranui Genma-san trained me for over a month. He’s a jounin – I mean, one of the elite.” She clarified.

 

“The elite?” her mother parroted, a smile growing on her face. “Why, Sakura, you had one of the _elite_ working with you and you haven’t invited him to _dinner_ yet?”

 

Sakura paled. “He’s a busy man!” she hastened to explain, not liking the glint in her mother’s eye. “I can’t possibly impose on him in such a way!”

 

“Nonsense!” her mother waved her off. “If he’s had enough spare time to spend it with a brat like you, I’m sure he can spare a few hours to try some of _my cooking_.” A dangerous smile crossed her face. “Or he will _find some time_ , if he knows what’s good for him.”

 

Sakura tried to argue, but she knew a lost case when she saw one. She sighed. “Just- hahaue, _please_ , promise me you won’t try to threaten him.” She begged and got a smirk for her troubles.

 

And then, Sakura’s mother rose from the table and disappeared in the lounge. Sakura shot a pleading look at her father, but he merely replied with a small upwards quirk of his lips. “I cannot try to discourage her when I myself am curious too.” And so saying, he stood up and followed her mother, and Sakura allowed her head to thump against the table.

 

She was _screwed._

* * *

 

And that had been the first day.

 

The second day, Sakura got a piece of paper and wrote down everything she remembered about Temari, Shikamaru and Dosu’s fights. Assuming she won against the Sand kunoichi, she would then have to fight whoever won from Shikamaru and the Sound nin. She had the advantage of knowledge over Temari, as Sakura had seen her jutsu and knew that she relied on her fan to make it work while the other kunoichi knew almost nothing about her. That was a good starting point, but it wouldn’t give her the edge over the other two; moreover, she had no idea how good Temari was at disrupting genjutsu.

 

So she had a month to find something new for long-range combat as well as something which would aid her in close-combat fights. She was reluctant to try to learn an entire taijutsu style in a month or the conditioning which would be necessary for her frame to be able to handle the exertion, but _something_ would need to be done.

 

But first things first, she needed to restock her weapons kit. Genma-san’s words had stuck with her and she saw the truth in them during the Exam, especially in the Forest of Death. With that in mind, she set off to the same weapons store, wallet in hand and in marginally higher spirits than the day before.

 

Once she had what she wanted and was about to pay, something else caught her eye. _Chakra paper?_ Puzzled, she asked the shopkeeper and he was kind enough to explain the paper’s function; “It allows you to see what elemental affinity you have. Just channel some chakra into it like this-” he held up a piece of paper, visibly concentrated, and a moment later the paper ignited and turned to ash. “-and you’ll know. The fact that it burnt just means my element is fire. Here, try it yourself.” He handed her a small square and Sakura paused.

 

“How much is it?” she asked, to which he waved her off.

 

“Knowing your element could save your life. Besides,” he eyed the ample supply of kunai and explosive tags she laid out on the counter. “consider it a bonus for everything else you’re going to pay me for.”

 

Flashing the man a small but grateful smile, Sakura held the paper between thumb and forefinger like she’d seen him do. “So… I just channel some chakra into it?” she confirmed and at his nod, did as asked.

 

She jumped when the paper first turned to dirt and then, as it began to crumble into her palm, some of it became wet and slid down her wrist like mud. Slightly disgusted, she quickly wiped it off before meeting the surprised eyes of the shopkeeper. “Is everything alright?” she asked worriedly, eyes falling to the small spot of mud on the floor. “I’ll clean up, I promise.”

 

But the man waved her off. “Don’t worry about that,” he scoffed before his eyes turned to her, the curiosity within them evident. “Are your parents shinobi?” he asked.

 

“No, sir, both are civilian.” Sakura denied, confused. “What does that have to do with anything, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

He smiled. “It’s just that you seem to have an affinity for Earth _and_ Water. Though Earth is definitely your main one and will come to you a lot more easily, having two is still not exactly _common_ for children who hailed from civilian families.” He grinned at her confusion. “It should even out if you ever reach jounin though – most jounin learn to have equal mastery of two or more elements at some point in their careers. Though it’s true that, initially, most ninja from civilian families have only one.” He explained.

 

Sakura’s brow furrowed in a frown. “Is it bad that I have two?”

 

“No, not at all!” he hastened to reassure. “If anything, it’s gonna make life easier for you.” He grinned. “Although it’s curious that you have two opposing natures as your affinity.” And then he proceeded to explain that every element had another element which it was strong against, such as Fire against Wind, and another which it was weak against, like Water against Earth.

 

Sakura’s mind was working in overdrive. “Is it… is it possible to _combine_ the elements?” she asked slowly, at which the shopkeeper grinned.

 

“You’re a sharp one, ain’tcha?” he teased. “There _are_ combinations of two or more elemental affinities used to create another element entirely, but they mostly depend on a kekkei genkai or a passed-down technique. I think the most famous one in Konoha was the Shodai Hokage and his Wood Release.” Seeing her alarmed expression, he laughed. “No one is saying that _everybody_ who can use Earth and Water Release should be able to use Wood Release. That’d be crazy; there’s a reason they call Hashirama Senju the _God of Shinobi_ – no one’s been able to _naturally_ recreate his technique since.”

 

The rosette absorbed this information and safely filed it in the back of her mind. “Thank you.” She murmured before her eyes fell on her weapons. “How much is it for all this?”

 

Afterwards, she made a quick detour to the library, but this time, instead of jutsu scrolls, she borrowed a scroll on elemental chakra and a history book on Konoha that looked as if it were to crumble to dust in her hands. When she got home and safely put away her weapons, she carefully leafed through the pages till she found a profile on the Shodai Hokage.

 

It was as Morino-san said, after all: all information was valuable information.

* * *

 

On the morning of the third day, Sakura found _The Note_ taped to her window. After she calmed down, she grabbed her wallet, the library scroll as well as the one she took off the Iwagakure kunoichi in the Forest of Death and promptly snuck out.

 

Her feet took her to her favourite dango stand and she purposely didn’t think about what her mother would say if she heard she was having sweets for breakfast. _She could treat herself once in a while, damn it!_

 

When her dessert arrived, Sakura almost inhaled the first stick before she slowed down enough to spread the scroll from the Iwa-nin on the table. She had high hopes for this one – Iwagakure, after all, was famed for their mastery of Earth Release techniques, just as Kirigakure was for their Water Release.

 

When she unravelled it, a grin stole over her face. _Bingo!_

“Y’know, kid, if you keep eating junk-food instead of something more nutritious you’re gonna remain a twerp forever.” a very familiar voice in her ear made her jump and she shot a glare at Genma-san who looked obviously amused and not in the slightest apologetic.

 

“I have a month off from a life-or-death exam, Genma-san.” She grouched, stuffing another dumpling in her mouth for good measure and chewing obnoxiously. “Let me live.”

 

The tokujo snorted and slid into the seat opposite her, snagging a dango stick from her plate with a daring grin. “Ah, about that Exam,” he raised an eyebrow. “when I told you to ‘finish a match as quickly as you could’, I didn’t think you’d take it so seriously as to finish in _less than a minute_.” He announced and Sakura frowned.

 

“Is it wrong, what I did?” she asked in puzzlement, relieved when Genma-san waved her off.

 

“It’s not the question of ‘wrong’ or ‘right’ exactly,” he explained. “you did what you felt you had to do to win.” Then, he smirked. “It’s just that jounin are horrible gossips and there’re now various bets being placed on who’ll win the matches next month and no-one quite knows what to do with _you_.”

 

Sakura paled. “Me?!” she questioned incredulously at which the brunet shot her a crooked grin.

 

“See it from their point of view for a moment,” he instructed. “The Hyuuga is easy, as is the Uchiha, the Aburame will probably suck all the chakra from the puppet before its owner realises what’s going on, and all those worth their salt know not to mess with a Nara. But you?” he met her wide eyes with his own which were brimming with barely hidden amusement and a hint of pride. “A no-name kunoichi from a civilian family defeated a Yamanaka heir in less than a minute with a jounin level technique and a supplementary genjutsu. You can see how you’ve unwittingly made yourself into something _interesting_.”

 

“I never meant to-! You said to finish quickly if I could, advised me to use genjutsu and then disarm! That’s all I did!” she defended herself, only pausing when the tokujo shook his head.

 

“And I’m not condemning you for it.” He reassured. “I’m just saying that there’s a big question mark over your fight and some people are expecting a show.” Then, he smiled and his eyes glinted teasingly. “But that’s neither here nor there. More importantly, why d’you look like you’re reading an obviously stolen scroll when I came in?”

 

“Who’s to say it’s stolen?” she grumbled, though she was slightly thrown that he’d noticed. “I could’ve just borrowed it from the library.”

 

Genma-san raised an eyebrow and brought up three fingers. “Reason one why it’s stolen: nobody in their right mind manning the library desk would let a _genin_ take out scrolls elemental manipulation.” He grinned when she scowled and lowered one finger. “Reason number two is that while I’m fairly certain you might’ve found Hiding Like a Mole technique in the library if you were chuunin or jounin,” he leaned over to read over her shoulder, “I’m pretty damn sure that Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld is _at least_ a B-Rank. And reason number three is that Konoha is _not_ a Village renowned for their Earth Release techniques, ergo, this scroll is _not from_ Konoha.”

 

When she neither confirmed nor denied his conclusion, he crossed his arms and sat back against the seat, a self-satisfied grin on his face as he flicked the senbon from side to side. “So,” he began, the word so smug that Sakura smothered the urge to shove that needle down his throat “did you loot a corpse?”

 

She promptly choked on her dango.

 

The rosette turned horrified eyes to the tokujo, who merely looked amused, and when she regained her ability to speak –

 

“No!” she shrieked, then promptly lowered her voice when at least two heads turned her way. “ _No_.” she reaffirmed, and glared. “She was unconscious but _alive_ when I took it.”

 

At the smirk that appeared on his face, Sakura realised that it would’ve been better to stay silent. “So you _agree_ that you stole it?” and when she realised that his tone wasn’t accusatory or disgusted, just the usual _infuriatingly_ amused, Sakura had to admire how easily he manipulated her into admitting the truth.

 

“Fine.” She sighed and sagged in her seat. “ _Fine._ Yes, I stole it. Happy?” she snarked, but his grin didn’t fade.

 

“ _Very_.” Genma-san admitted and promptly stole another one of her dango sticks. Before she could dig into him, he asked; “What warrants the interest in Earth Release though? I thought you would’ve been researching more genjutsu.” And Sakura frowned, then carefully relayed what she discovered in the weapons shop the day before as well as what she’d thought she could do to prepare for her battle with Temari.

 

She was relieved when Genma-san made a point of nodding throughout, and when she finished, a contemplative look appeared on his face. “So you want something close range as well as another way of attacking long-range, yeah?” when she nodded, he grinned. “Well, I’m glad you seem to have sussed out the real reason behind the combat section of the Exams.”

 

Sakura stared. The _real reason_?

 

At her blank look, Genma-san sighed, “Or maybe not.” He stole _another_ dango stick for good measure before he explained. “The theory exam is to see if you’ve got the brains or the resourcefulness. The Forest of Death is mainly to see if you can follow orders and survive in unknown conditions which is needed for long-term missions outside the Village. But the combat stage is, well, for _you_ , it’s mainly to assess your versatility and decision-making.”

 

The rosette frowned, hearing what he was _not_ saying. “The combat stage is for _people_ like _me_.” She realised, her eyes widening as she worked it out. Genma-san sat quietly, his eyes never leaving her face. “People from no significant clan nor with any particular talents.” She continued. “There will always be a place in the ranks for a Hyuuga, like Hinata-san, because of their dojutsu – reconnaissance and intel gathering benefit from people with essentially X-Ray vision.” She thought of more names. “Same as the Inuzuka are useful for tracking, the Akimichi for defence and demolition, the Nara as tacticians and the Yamanaka as interrogators.” The history book she borrowed the day before was great in explaining to her the function of each clan in their society. “But it’s the no-names that need to _make_ a name for themselves who are truly assessed in the combat stage. Am I right?” when her eyes fell on Genma-san, he quickly swapped the contemplative frown he was wearing for an easy smirk.

 

“Nearly. There’s one more thing.” And when she frowned, confused, he explained. “Chuunin are mainly leaders.” He announced. “Hokage-sama should’ve told you that even if you start the match, realise you’re outclassed and forfeit, you can still become chuunin.”

 

Sakura’s eyebrows raised. “You _can_?”

 

Genma-san scowled slightly. “Ah. That’s why I said ‘ _should’ve’_.” he sighed. “Yeah, kid, you can. Because it shows that you know your limits and know when a fight would not end in your favour. For a leader, their squad is their priority. Particularly in Konoha, since we’re the ‘nice’ Village that’s so keen on the whole ‘teamwork and cooperation’ aspect of being ninja.” Sakura nodded, Zabuza’s words echoing in her mind; Konoha was _definitely_ a lot nicer than Kiri, for example. She tuned back in when Genma-san resumed his explanation. “But you were largely right – being from a civilian family, you’ll need to show good decision-making as well as a certain degree of versatility to even be _considered_ for the promotion.”

 

Sakura’s eyes fell on the brunet, knowing yet dreading what she had to ask. “Genma-san…” she began carefully. “Would you… would you mind training me again?”

 

When Genma-san turned surprised eyes to her, she thought for sure she’d overstepped and almost took back her words, but then–

 

“I thought that was a given.” He stated bluntly, and Sakura had to blink a few times before his words registered. When they did, she pushed her plate of dango towards him, knowing he’d appreciate it more than if she were to hug him like she was very tempted to. “I just didn’t want to say anything first in case Hatake organised you some new sensei and you didn’t want to make this awkward.”

 

At that, Sakura winced. “Ah,” she started. “Kakashi-sensei… didn’t… organise anyone… for me.”

 

Genma-san’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean ‘ _for you_ ’?” and though his voice was calm, it was also _cold_ , and Sakura decided to show him the crumpled note that she’d shoved in her pocket in the morning rather than go through the pain of explaining her situation. The tokujo’s eyes scanned the paper, once, twice, _three times_ before they rose to meet Sakura’s, disbelief and anger represented in equal parts.

 

“What.”

 

And Sakura snorted; Genma’s expression was the same as hers had been in the morning when she first read the note. “Beats me, Genma-san.” She sighed once she caught her breath. “I just promised myself I’d prove him wrong is all.”

 

The tokujo’s eyes snapped to her, and he scowled. “Damn right.” He snapped. “C’mon kid, grab that scroll of yours. We’re going to train till Hatake will have to shove his ‘ _basics’_ up his _ass_!”

 

Eyes wide and giggling all the while, Sakura obediently snatched up the scroll and followed the irate brunet, her appreciation for the man growing considerably. She jogged to catch up then asked, “Genma-san, not to be rude, but do you even _know_ any Earth Release techniques?” a bit impudent of her to question a _jounin_ , but it had been sitting on her mind since he offered to train her – he never _mentioned_ having an affinity before.

 

The brunet sent her a sideways glance and scowled but there was humour in his eyes. “Must you look a gift horse in the mouth?” he grumbled. “But for your information, yes, I know about two or three. I’m old enough to have fought in the Third Shinobi War and you learn a thing or two about the other side if a conflict goes on for that long.” Sakura’s eyes widened. The Third Shinobi War… It was at least a decade before she was born and if Genma-san fought in that…

 

“You must’ve been… five years old? Six?” she initially reckoned Genma-san couldn’t be older than twenty five, maybe twenty six, but the new information made her revaluate.

 

Genma-san grinned. “You flatter me, kid.” He joked before he grew serious. “Nah, I was eleven or so, fresh outta the Academy ‘cause they only started needing child soldiers _after_ I graduated. The real fighting didn’t even really start till I made chuunin two years later but you always remember what you learn on the battlefield.”

 

Suddenly, Sakura’s respect for the man skyrocketed and she grinned. “For some reason, I’m looking forward to this.”

 

Genma-san’s grin turned ominous. “You _really_ shouldn’t be.”

 

* * *

 

In the evening, Sakura understood why he’d said that.

 

They stopped by the library and Genma-san borrowed some scrolls which he’d deemed ‘easy beginner stuff’ which he planned to pawn off on her after he demonstrated how to perform them while he studied the scroll she’d taken from the Iwagakure kunoichi. His justification when she asked why he was bothering with learning Earth Release himself was; “I need to know what I’m teaching you, don’t I?” and after that, Sakura didn’t argue anymore.

 

They went to their usual training grounds and Genma-san quickly explained the ins and outs of nature manipulation: “With Earth, you can alter its state – you can make it into mud or into rock if you wish – you can also change its density, which makes it easier to move around underground, for example. But all of that revolves around a constant, controlled stream of chakra, and so we’ll need to increase your reserves before you get started on any of the more advanced techniques.” And Sakura agreed, finding the plan reasonable enough, but Genma-san surprised her with what he said next. “Still, I think you have enough chakra as is to try this;” his hands flashed through handsigns which Sakura’s mind worked to catalogue – _Tiger, Hare, Boar, Dog-!_ – before he slammed them against the ground, fingers spread, and a thick, half a metre tall and double that in length wall of earth rose up right before their eyes. “this is very aptly named ‘Earth Wall’.” Genma-san announced, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards. “It’s theoretically a B-Rank technique, but it’s the easiest thing I can think of to start you on.”

 

When Sakura’s eyes went wide at the rank, he grinned brazenly and chucked her a scroll. “It’s your element, kid. Learning this will come easier to you once you get the basics down, but till then it’s gonna be a lot of hit-and-miss. The scroll should help with the theory aspects, but ideally, you’ll want to start on the practical ASAP. We only have a month, after all.” Sakura could not help reciprocating his grin towards the end, and they both settled on the ground, cross-legged with scrolls spread out before them.

 

Sakura managed to read through the scroll twice in half an hour, the second time making sure she hadn’t missed any important hints or pointers – it seemed Genma-san was right; all the scroll was useful for was telling her how to channel her chakra, but the actual _manipulation_ was left almost entirely to her.

 

“Okay.” She exhaled, mentally readying herself for the next step and valiantly ignoring Genma-san’s raised eyebrow. “ _Okay_.” But Sakura wasn’t _Naruto_ , she couldn’t pull out an impossible technique from her sleeve and get it right on the first go, _no_ , she had to strategize, plan, prepare herself–

 

She laid her hands out on the ground, fingers splayed wide and palms flat. Carefully, she pumped some chakra into the ground underneath; at first, it seemed completely anticlimactic as _nothing_ happened, but then, Sakura realised that was because she was expecting to feel something by the ‘standard’ senses, but since she was prodding _underground_ , she had to _extend_ a little; she concentrated on the feel of her chakra and–

 

The ground that had previously seemed so packed and unforgiving seemed to _buzz_ when her chakra ran through it and Sakura could feel its energy, its obedience, how it seemed to await a command. Curious, she smoothed one of her palms over the ground, never breaking the chakra flow and was startled to note that she could _feel_ a bit of the dirt under the surface follow where her palm went, almost like iron filings to a magnet. Unbidden, a memory of their time in Wave came to mind, how when they were tree-climbing, Naruto and Sasuke-kun’s trunks kept exploding whenever they used too much chakra. Sakura seemed to know instinctively how much would be _too much_ , and she realised that even now she was using the perfect balance. Intrigued, she wondered if the same principle that made the trunks implode would work on earth – following the hunch, she took one of her hands away from the ground and increased the chakra flow till she had to concentrate to resist the urge to moderate it to the _appropriate_ level, then, before she could talk herself out of the idea, she slapped that hand lightly against the ground, expelled the chakra she’d gathered and waited.

 

Then promptly squeaked at the result:

 

A dark, foot-long crevice appeared in the ground, and when she carefully peaked inside, she could not discern the depth of the crack. Her eyes rose to meet Genma-san’s amused gaze, though she didn’t miss the raised eyebrow.

 

“Having fun?” he asked sarcastically, at which she pouted and returned to the task at hand. Carefully, she cancelled the chakra flow to her other hand as well then laid both palms on the ground again, but this time making sure that the fissure was between her thumbs. Concentrating hard, she recalled how the dirt seemed to respond to her chakra the first time and carefully gathered chakra again, smiling slightly when she got that same feeling of readiness from the ground affected. This time, she had an idea of what she wanted to do, how she wanted to manipulate the earth under her control. She imagined it expanding, rising up, filling the crevice she’d made and settling again, leaving the terrain unscathed and even once again. Unconsciously, her chakra seemed to mimic her imagination, and when Sakura glanced at the crack again to gauge her progress, she did a double-take and promptly lost control of her chakra.

 

The crevice was gone.

 

Slow, sarcastic clapping reached her ears, and she turned her head so quickly her neck cracked to see Genma-san observing her, both eyebrows raised and a grin splitting her face. “You done playing, or do you want me to take you to the sandbox with the little kids? You’d fit right in.” he teased and Sakura mock-glared.

 

“Shut up, Genma-san.” She grumbled, but her words held no real heat and they both knew it. “I think… I think I know how to do it.” She added hesitantly, not wanting to come off as overconfident. But Genma-san dropped his scroll and turned so his body faced her and gestured in-between them in a silent ‘go ahead’, not the slightest hint of judgement in his eyes, for which Sakura was eternally grateful.

 

She cast one last look at the scroll before she ran through the seals once, without chakra but merely to familiarise herself with the sequence. “Okay.” She murmured again, got to her knees and concentrated.

 

 _Tiger, Hare, Boar, Dog-!_ Sakura slammed her palms against the ground and expelled the chakra that she’d gathered in her hands, alarmed to note that it was almost a third of her reserves. She could _feel_ the earth respond beneath her hands, feel its energy coil under the surface and she silently urged it along: _c’mon,_ she thought, _up!_ The second that thought fully formed in her mind, she was scurrying backwards, eyes wide; a thick slab of earth rose up, easily taller than her and over a metre wide. For a moment, she was left speechless in disbelief then sighed in equal parts exhausted and relieved.

 

“Hm,” Genma-san murmured and she realised that he’d gotten up to inspect her handiwork. “Not bad, kid.” He commented finally and grinned at her shock. “Not bad at all.” Then, he turned to her and clapped his hands together. “Now, I want you to destroy it.”

 

“ _What?”_ she couldn’t help the incredulity that coloured her voice. “Did you not _see_ how much _effort_ that took?” she demanded.

 

“I did.” The tokujo responded easily, his smirk turning mischievous. “Which is why you’re going to do it again and again and _again_ till you don’t even notice how much chakra it saps.” He announced cheerfully. Sakura levelled him with a flat stare.

 

“You’re mad.”

 

“Probably.”

 

“I’ll pass out.”

 

“Undoubtedly.”

 

“You’re a sadist.”

 

A shrug. “There’re worse things I could be. Now, chop-chop!”

 

Defeated and not in the slightest happy about it, Sakura set to work.

 

* * *

 

She _did_ pass out.

 

_Repeatedly._

 

The first time, when she came to, Genma-san offered her a protein bar, a ten minute break and a word of advice: “You could reduce the thickness – your chakra is coating it anyway, so it’s unlikely any attacks would go through and it would save a _lot_ of chakra.”

 

The second time, she was greeted by an unimpressed eyebrow and a hand to help her up. “Your recuperation period needs work.”

 

The third time she came to, the smell of fried chicken greeted her nostrils and her stomach growled like a felled beast. She propped herself on her elbows and was amused to discover Genma-san was sat cross-legged, still studying the scroll, a white carton box in his hands from which she could distinctly smell udon noodles and soy sauce. Seeing her gaze, he offered her a grin and gestured to an identical box beside him, which she eagerly dug into.

 

“Didn’t know what you like so decided that fried chicken is the safe option.” He told her in-between bites. Then, as if considering something, he added. “Oh, and no silly diets for the duration of this month.” At her incredulous stare, he scowled; “How can you expect to have a decent amount of chakra if you don’t eat properly?” he chastised. “Besides, if you’re dieting for a boy, he can wait. You’re too young to be thinking of boys.”

 

And then, floored by the absurdity of the situation, Sakura laughed. “Genma-san, are you my _mom_? D’you want me to start calling you _kaa-san_?” she teased.

 

The brunet’s eyes spelled death when he glared at her. “Make that joke again and I’ll pawn you off to Gai in a heartbeat and you’ll be running a hundred laps around Konoha _on your hands._ ”

 

Needless to say, that joke perished before it even had a chance to enjoy its brief life.

* * *

 

The disbelief at what she was doing only caught up with her halfway through the second week.

 

“I’m manipulating an element.” She murmured, voice flat as she stared at her arm which was submerged wrist-deep in the ground beside her after no digging, no displacing, just pure chakra control. “Holy _shit_ -! Genma-san, I’m _manipulating_ an _element_!” she shrieked, her eyes wide as she tried to convey what a Big Thing that was to the amused jounin beside her.

 

“Yes, kid, I _know_ , you’ve been doing it for the better part of the week.” He replied easily and she couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed at his ‘duh’ tone. “Unless you’ve had sudden amnesia, I fail to see why that only registered in your mind as something of importance after _a week of doing it._ ”

 

Sakura paused in her freak-out and took a moment to consider the reason. “Honestly, I think it’s… I think it’s ‘cause I always viewed it like something done by really powerful people, y’know?” she tried to explain, then elaborated at Genma-san’s signature raised eyebrow. “I mean, I know, logically, that most shinobi can manipulate an element after they reach a certain rank, but I only ever saw really strong people do it – Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke-kun, Zabuza… I guess, the slight crisis you just witnessed was because I never thought _I_ would be able to do something like that.”

 

Genma-san shot her an irritated look and stood up, gesturing for her to do the same. “Put me under your genjutsu.” He ordered. Sakura paled.

 

“ _What?_ ”

 

“ _Put me. Under. Your. Genjutsu_ , damn it, kid!” He snapped, for once sounding genuinely irritated. Startled, Sakura hastened to obey, hands flashing through the seals required for the Hell-Viewing technique. She saw how his jaw twitched and clenched and felt the shift when he dispelled it. “Again.” He ordered in a voice that left no room for argument. She obeyed and pulled out the Double False Surroundings jutsu, then layered the standard version over it. Sakura took some pride in the fact that it took Genma-san a bit longer to discover the layer, but when he broke that too, he merely demanded she keep going. “The new one this time. _Now._ ”

 

‘The new one’ meant that Sakura used her imagination rather than an actual technique and implanted it into another’s brain with her chakra. She heard Genma-san’s breath hitch slightly when the landscape around him transformed into the Forest of Death, but she layered the Mist Servant technique over that before he could dispel it, and waited.

 

A few moments later, the illusionary clones disappeared and Genma-san’s eyes regained their clarity. “Good.” He commented. “Now, Earth Wall.” Obligingly, Sakura called forth a small wall but made sure it didn’t go higher than her waist to conserve her chakra; she had a feeling this was somewhat of a test. She didn’t wait for Genma-san’s command before she dismissed it and disappeared underground, her hand appearing above the surface a few seconds later only to tap his shin lightly before she disappeared again and emerged completely a few metres away from where she originally stood. Conscious of her dwindling reserves, she allowed herself a moment’s respite before her hands flashed through Dog and Tiger seals and a host of haze clones appeared and Sakura promptly sank into the earth again much like with the Headhunter Jutsu, but this one with much more nefarious intent. She smothered her chakra as she moved underground, knowing the clones will effectively mask her re-emergence; she was right, as Genma-san’s back was to her, and in a childish fit, she pumped the remnants of her chakra into her feet and pounced.

 

The softness of their landing alerted her to the fact that the tokujo had definitely sensed her coming, but the fact that he still let her topple him and land on his back made something warm bloom in her chest and she rolled off, not wanting to make him stay in the uncomfortable position any longer than necessary.

 

“So,” Genma-san began after rolling over onto his side, head propped on his elbow. “still feel like you’re in any way inferior to your teammates?”

 

Realising that that was the reason behind his loss of temper and the various tests, Sakura felt her cheeks grow hot. “N-no.” she managed to stammer out, not meeting the brunet’s gaze. “No, thank you, Genma-san.”

 

She felt more than saw him wave her off. “No need. You need to believe in yourself, kid. You’re capable of more than you think.”

 

And Sakura would later blame her poor self-esteem, her pessimism, hell, even Kakashi-sensei and his negligence for the embarrassing words that escaped her next:

 

“D’youwanttocometodinner?”

* * *

 

It took Genma-san over thirty minutes to get her to pull her head out of the ground – where she promptly shoved it the second her brain caught up with her mouth using her new Earth Release abilities, mind you. They both knew Genma-san was more than capable of simply pulling her out of the ground but he was distracted from his task by bouts of uncontrollable laughter than shook him randomly and eventually even Sakura gave in and sat up to grin sheepishly at him, absently brushing some dirt from her hair.

 

“Would you- would you mind repeating that?” he asked between chuckles, his cheeks flushed from laughing so much.

 

Sakura barely resisted shoving her head into the sand again. “I said,” she forced out, eyes screwed shut and enunciating carefully, “would you mind coming over for dinner. At my house. With my parents. My mother… wants to meet you.”

 

Genma-san cocked his head at her explanation. “Sure.” He shrugged. “What’s got you so embarrassed though?”

 

The rosette shot him a disbelieving glare. “I _like_ words, Genma-san. I consider myself fairly well spoken. I’ve been thinking of how to breach that subject since you agreed to train me again. But then I had to be stupid and blurt it out like- like-” she struggled for an apt metaphor. “like _Naruto._ ” Genma-san snorted, but before he could reply, something else clicked in Sakura’s mind. “Wait.” She ordered, holding a hand up and levelling him with the flattest stare she was capable of. “Did you just say _yes?_ ”

 

Genma-san, again, shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I? Free food. Besides, I kinda want to meet your parents, actually.” Sakura stared.

 

“Trust me, you will regret ever saying that when you actually meet them.” But the brunet only smirked and grumbled something like ‘let a grown man form his own opinions, brat’ at which it was Sakura’s turn to shrug.

 

“Your funeral.”

* * *

 

Sakura’s calm demeanour only lasted till they got to her doorstep. She turned to the brunet, eyes entreating. “Seriously, Genma-san, my parents _hate_ shinobi. They’re very much against my choice and they will not hesitate to rip into you the second they hear that you’ve been training ‘their only daughter how to kill people’.” She saw the tokujo’s eyebrow skyrocket and she shrugged. “Honestly, I will happily cover for you if you say you don’t want to come. Saying that my parents can be unpleasant is like saying the Warring States Period was a skirmish in a sandbox.”

 

Genma-san snorted at her comparison and dropped his hand on her head none-too-gently to ruffle her hair. “Kid. I can handle myself against civilians, y’know? Have some faith.”

 

The rosette raised her eyebrow but eventually smiled gratefully. “Tomorrow at 7?” she asked instead. Genma-san grinned and ruffled her hair again for good measure. “D’you think I should dress up?” he teased, but Sakura actually looked him up and down, as if considering, before she shook her head.

 

“Just wear something that doesn’t scream ‘I kill people for a living’.” She said flatly though her eyes were shining with mirth. She lazily saluted him then disappeared through the door and Genma finally had the opportunity to really think of how bizarre the entire situation was.

 

Then, he shrugged; _free food is free food._

* * *

 

Dinner the next day was exactly like Sakura had predicted and nothing like it at the same time.

 

She was right that Haruno Mebuki wouldn’t hesitate to dig into anyone who remotely implied ‘ninja’ but Sakura dared hope her mother would at least _wait_ till they were seated around the table before beginning her particular brand of table small-talk. But no luck. Genma-san barely managed to duck into the living room, looking very… _normal_ in his off-duty outfit – a very respectable pair of black pants, straw sandals and a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up (she had to commend his fashion sense at some point; Mebuki may dislike ninja, but Sakura saw the woman’s eyes light up in appreciation when he walked in) – before her mother, with faux cheer dripping from every word, announced.

 

“Ah, our guest of honour!” she swept into the room with the dramatic air of someone who performed for a living. “So,” Mebuki began, a vicious glint in her eyes. “what’s the name of the man who’s been teaching my daughter how to be a better killer?”

 

Sakura reasoned she could be excused for smacking her head into the doorframe the second she registered the question, “Hahaue, _really_ –” she pleaded, but one look at Genma-san had her pause in her tracks; the brunet’s polite smile never faltered. If anything, when she looked closer, he only looked _horribly amused,_ but he was hiding it well.

 

“My name’s Shiranui Genma, Haruno-san,” he replied, and Sakura saw her mother twitch at the polite tone – few people ever met her head-on. “And, with all due respect, I believe you have it slightly wrong.” Now, even Sakura’s _father_ was listening. “I’m the man, as you said, who’s been teaching your daughter how to look after herself better, so that, with every mission, no matter how difficult, she’ll be able to come home to you _on her own two feet_ rather than in a _matchbox_.” As he spoke, the edges of Genma-san’s polite smile turned razor-sharp. “And if that means teaching her how to kill those who wouldn’t hesitate to kill her… well.” A delicate, practiced shrug, but his eyes were sharp. “ _Jakuniku Kyōshoku,_ right?”

 

For the first time in her life, Sakura saw her mother reduced to speechlessness.

 

She barely restrained a grin.

 

_Genma-san is **awesome.**_

****

* * *

 

 

After that interesting beginning, the rest of the dinner progressed in what Sakura could only call stunned normalcy. Her father asked Genma-san about his views on politics, the daimyo, Konohagakure’s trade – all the mundane things civilian men can talk about. Sakura’s mother, after she got over the shock of Genma-san’s polite but thorough telling off, send Sakura an unreadable glance then jumped wholeheartedly into her role as a housewife, serving food, giggling where appropriate and subtly interrogating the tokujo throughout. The little quirk of the brunet’s lips alerted Sakura that he was _very much aware_ of what her mother was doing, but, for some reason, he allowed it. And then, her father asked an innocuous question, something that was bound to come up at some point, and Sakura’s world came crashing down.

 

 _Genma-san… was on the Yondaime’s Guard Platoon?_ was her first incredulous thought, quickly followed by _he can do the Hiraishin?_

It wasn’t like she didn’t believe he was a talented shinobi – she knew better than to think that his calm and seemingly lazy demeanour was more than just a front, but she never realised _how much_ skill it actually hid. Though, really, she should’ve expected it with how easy he found it to teach her genjutsu despite claiming it wasn’t his forte, or how willing he was to learn another element in order to teach it to her; that sort of confidence rarely came unfounded. _But still… protecting the most powerful person in the entire Village? And being one of_ five _people to ever learn the Hiraishin?_

Sakura knew she was gaping, but somehow, she couldn’t stop it. The more she learned, the more it fuelled that one question that reverberated through her mind over and over again: _why would he agree to teach **me**?_

                                                       

It wasn’t as if she was showing any promise when he approached her those few weeks ago in the library; she was but a lost girl in a world of monsters and powerhouses. What could he have possibly seen that was worthy of his time in _her?_

The rest of the dinner passed in somewhat of a daze, and before Sakura fully realised it, it was late and she was escorting Genma-san to the door, her parents calling out cheerful farewells and urging the tokujo to come over again.

 

Remembering the manners her mother had drilled into her as a little girl, Sakura walked the jounin outside then paused when she stood in the door. A second’s consideration later, she stepped outside into the front yard and shut the door behind her. She stared up at the man, deep in thought, her previous question fresh in her mind.

 

Genma-san sighed and proceeded to prove himself capable of telepathy; “I may have been one of the Hokage’s guards, but before I was all that, I was a little lost brat too.” At her wide eyes, he grinned ruefully. “It’s written all over your face, kid, this ‘ _why me_?’ angst you’ve got going on.” He snorted at her indignant glare. “Let me tell you this: poor self-esteem is _not_ ‘cute’. Initially, I offered to help you because I was curious – after all, there’s not much that can make someone willingly spend as much time in the library as you had.” He grinned at that, and the rosette felt an unbidden smile grow on her own face in response. “But,” Genma-san grew serious again. “but I stayed because you _are_ skilled, you _are_ talented, and every lost brat deserves someone who can guide them along at first.”

 

It took Sakura a second to fully register the words, but the moment she did, she was throwing her arms around the tokujo’s shoulders, burying her face in his shoulder much like she’d done that night before the first exam. She ignored Genma-san’s protests of “Kid, we’re _still_ not that close-!” and squeezed for all she was worth before she spoke;

 

“ _Thank you_.” She murmured almost reverently. Then, Genma-san’s earlier words of comfort and encouragement gave her the confidence to ask: “If I become chuunin, will- would you- could you teach me about the Hiraishin?” she inquired, her voice sounding ragged even to her own ears.

 

And Genma paused for a second, completely stupefied, before he let a small, secretive grin grow on his face, sure that the kid couldn’t see it. “Sure, kid.” He replied, lightly patting her head. “If you live long enough.”

 

He ignored the annoyed growl she directed his way as she turned to walk back inside after throwing a wave over her shoulder. He stayed long enough to hear Haruno Mebuki’s voice ring clear even through the closed door, a grin growing on his face when her words fully registered.

 

“I still don’t like your kind.” Came the blunt statement, and he stifled a chuckle at the words that followed. “But _him_? Him, I like.”

 

Genma grinned. He did good.

* * *

 

Obviously, whatever gods were in charge of his luck enjoyed reminding him that life _sucked_ whenever he got too comfortable; the next day, he was summoned to the Jounin HQ where news of Hayate Gekko’s death made those gathered go positively green in the face. Genma himself felt sick. He _liked_ Hayate, the man was like the younger brother he never had and hearing he was dead – no, _murdered –_ managed to shake him to the core.

 

He belatedly realised that the Sandaime was also there, the man’s meagre height serving to make him blend in with the jounin and chunin gathered, but then he spoke and those standing directly before him stepped aside so everyone could see him.

 

“There will be a quiet funeral tomorrow, but there will be a big gathering after the Chunin Examinations are over.” He announced, his voice grave. “Hayate-kun’s death was a real tragedy; he was incredibly skilled for his age, and a loyal shinobi. However, we shall save our grief for now and honour him when the time is right.” As if by command, everyone gathered subconsciously straightened, their grief turning into resolve. “Hayate-kun’s passing has led us onto another matter – that of the proctor for the final stage of the Chunin Exams.” There was a thoughtful murmur as everyone realised that the Hokage was right. “I’ve been thinking who should take over, and my top three are Aoba-kun, Genma-kun or Raidou-kun.”

 

Genma froze.

 

_He… what?_

Beside him, Aoba snickered at his stupefied expression, while a few rows ahead Raidou turned around and shot him a small grin, his height making him easily distinguishable from the others. Then, Aoba, the bastard, raised his hand.

 

“With all due respect, Hokage-sama,” he began, his cheerful tone making those aware of his usual antics sigh and shake their heads in exasperation. “I would be awful as a proctor and Raido-cha- Raidou would scare them away with his face alone.” Despite the bluntness of the words, everyone knew they were not meant to offend, and a few chuckles escaped some the chunin. Genma tried to channel as much exasperation and ‘I-will-murder-you-in-your-sleep’ into his glare as he could, but then Aoba _kept talking_ and it got _worse_. “You should just make Genma the proctor and save everyone the trouble. He’s already a mother-hen as is, his face is decent enough that the kids won’t run for the hills if he yells at them.”

 

Genma sputtered; it was _annoying enough_ when the other man accused him of being a mother-hen when they were tired and in the process of getting hammered after a long mission, but in front of _all the other jounin and the fucking Hokage_ was pushing it.

 

“I am _not_ a mother-!” he protested, but Aoba turned around, shot him an obviously-practiced ‘ _really?_ ’ look and cut him off.

 

“You carry the equivalent of a _small pharmacy_ to every mission on the off-chance that somebody gets injured.” He began, a finger going up with every reason he listed. “Your apartment is basically a crash-pad for anyone who gets too hammered to walk in a straight line. You’ve cooked me breakfast every time I stayed over. _Real_ breakfast. And everybody knows Umino was basically your kid at one point.” Absently, Genma sought out Iruka, his desire to smack Aoba only growing when Iruka turned to shoot him an embarrassed smile, the tips of his ears red. Noticing his gaze, Aoba smirked. “Need I continue?”

 

Feeling his own ears grow hot, Genma gave into the urge to smack the raven then shot an apologetic look at the Hokage.

 

The Sandaime, to the brunet’s great annoyance, merely looked amused. “So it’s decided.” He announced. “Unless you have any objections, Genma-kun?”

 

 _The brat-!_ came to his mind unbidden, and Genma opened his mouth to say it, but quickly closed it and narrowed his eyes. The Hokage’s eyes slanted over to a familiar head of silver in the front row before they rested back on him, and a knowing glint in the man’s eyes alerted him to the fact that the Sandaime _knew_ of his unofficial training of the pink-haired menace.

 

For a moment, anger overtook him. _He knew and he still nominated me?_ Then, his gaze flickered back to the head of silver and something else made him grit his teeth and shake his head. He wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction, he’ll have to work to know how his student got so much better without him.

 

“No, Hokage-sama, none.”

 

Was that disappointment in the man’s eyes? Genma didn’t pay it any mind. He had to find someone to fill in for him in the kid’s training, and he had to find them _soon_ – him being a proctor now meant that he wasn’t allowed to train her in order to avoid bias. His eyes fell on two familiar heads making their way out of the HQ as the Sandaime dismissed them, and Genma’s mouth moved before his brain could catch up.

 

“Oi, Terrible Twins, wait up!”

* * *

 

 

"You want us to _what_."

 

Normally, Izumo would reproach his partner for his bluntness, but for once he was having quite similar thoughts. 

 

"I'm not asking you to work miracles, just, y'know, give her a chance." the tokujo replied, sighing, clearly having expected a similar response. "Consider it payment for that bet you lost but never paid me for." when both paled, a weak smirk pulled at his lips. "Yeah, no, I didn't forget." then he sighed, growing serious once again. "This business with Hayate means that security's been heightened to stupid levels, and since they made me a proctor I can't teach her to avoid ' _bias_ '. And she _deserves_ a fair chance in this, despite what the _bastard_ might think."

 

Kotetsu winced; Genma was usually very easy-going, to the point where some even called him lazy. Naturally, any and all notions of that sort were quickly destroyed the second they saw him get serious about something, or on the battlefield; still, to hear the brunet _curse_ was alarming to say the least. Sharing a look with his partner, he realised the other mirrored his thoughts – neither of them thought that Genma would ever get serious about a wet-behind-the-ears _genin_ of all things. 

 

"So, assuming that we _do_ do this," he began cautiously, eyes on Izumo's the whole time as they conversed without words before he faced Genma, knowing his decision was shared by his partner. "how will we know what to teach the kid?"

 

At that, Genma grinned around his omnipresent senbon, some of the earlier light returning to his eyes. "Oh, don't worry about that; the brat will know what to do." and with those admittedly ambiguous words of comfort, the tokujo shunshined away, leaving the two chunin in a very confused state. 

 

"Observe first?" Izumo proposed, at which Kotetsu smirked. 

 

"But of course." he replied, grinning. "Can't trust Genma to be objective after all, not when he's already been invited to _dinner_."

 

* * *

 

So observe they did; Genma's description of the girl was hopeless, but how many people did they really know who had _pink hair?_

 

_Exactly._

 

They stumbled across the kid when she was on her way to the training grounds; quickly, they stifled their chakra and settled in the branches around the clearing to watch.

 

The girl walked all the way to the middle of the clearing and sat down, legs crossed and eyes closed, appearing to be _meditating_ of all things. Bemused, Kotetsu turned to his partner, but the brunet had not taken his eyes away from the pinkette, so grudgingly, the raven did the same, only to jump and almost fall out of his branch, startled: the girl was gone.

 

"-the _fuck_?"

 

"I think-" Izumo began, but then, right before their eyes, the landscape started shifting, changing, and instead of a clearing in the forest, they were suddenly on a gritty road, a lake stretching as far as the eye could see before them, the humidity so high it was stifling and a permanent fog in the air. And then even _that_ melted away, replaced with what they _knew_ was the Forest of Death, complete with the dreary atmosphere and a giant pink leech on the trunk closest to them.

 

Finally, it clicked.

 

"Genjutsu." Kotetsu breathed, staring at their surroundings with awed disbelief. "She's crafting an illusion."

 

"When she 'disappeared' earlier, she _didn't_ disappear." Izumo announced and the raven turned to him in confusion. "Chameleon jutsu." he responded, his visible eye narrowed. "If I were to guess, she's still sitting there, just camouflaged."

 

Gradually, Kotetsu began to understand why Genma had seemed unable to leave the kid alone. "She's got crazy potential." he murmured, eyes wide.

 

And then, as if proving his words, there was a spark, a flicker, and then the trees were being devoured by flames. Izumo flinched. The flames started out slow, crackling ominously and spread, and then they could _feel_ the heat coming off of them, and for a second, Kotetsu hesitated, unsure.

 

The flames _weren't_ real.

 

...Right?

 

Then, just as he was about to ask Izumo to maybe relocate somewhere safer, the flames receded, too quickly to have been real, and a second later, figures started appearing from the trees, coming out of them like some haunted wood nymphs. All pink haired but decked in black and exuding an unpleasant, bloodthirsty aura. And then, as if they weren’t already creepy enough, they _moved_ , movements so synchronised it was eerie. They turned right to the tree Izumo and Kotetsu were perched in and suddenly, two kunai were flying towards them with their names on the handle.

 

" _Shit_ -!" and they jumped off, straight into the swarm of the zombie-like kunoichi only to realise that the illusion was gone, and a pair of emerald eyes was staring at them from the middle of the clearing with barely masked suspicion.

 

"Yes?" the rosette asked, not seeming the slightest bit apologetic for nearly giving them a heart attack. "Is there a reason you sat in that tree for so long without announcing your presence?"

 

Kotetsu blinked, exchanged bewildered glances with Izumo, then turned to the girl. "You... knew we were there?" he asked, slightly dumbfounded.

 

To his surprise, the pinkette grinned in a way that was distinctly familiar. "You weren't exactly inconspicuous, if that's what you’re thinking." she replied, eyes dancing with unrestrained mirth. "Even a _genin_ has more chakra than a squirrel." then, her grin grew. "Besides, I recognise you."

 

This time, it was Izumo who perked up. “Yeah?" he asked, curious. "Where from?"

 

The rosette sent them a secretive grin, then graciously divulged; "You were the two responsible for the genjutsu before the first stage of the Exams." she announced, giggling at their surprised faces. "Though I reckon you used a Henge then, but still." she gazed at Kotetsu, "Your hair is kinda memorable."

 

A moment of silence passed between them, and then they were laughing, Kotetsu and Izumo startled into it and the girl just amused by their expressions.

 

Though suddenly, she sobered up, and her seriousness reminded Kotetsu that this was the same girl who made _him_ question whether an illusionary fire was _real_. 

 

"Though I'd still like to know what a pair of chuunin is doing stalking an innocent genin." She told them, eyes moving between them as if searching for the slightest tell.

 

Kotetsu spluttered, indignant; "Now hold up for a minute we weren't-!" and his eyes narrowed when he realised the rosette was joking, clearly fighting a smirk. Somehow, he couldn't help an answering grin. "Genma  _was_ right; you _are_ a brat." he snorted, and the kid's eyes widened at the same time as Izumo snapped, "Kotetsu!" in admonishment.

 

"You... talked with Genma-san?" she asked, a mix of dread and hope, the look in her eyes so vulnerable it made Kotetsu fidget uncomfortably.

 

"Genma asked us to train you." Izumo explained when it became clear his partner wasn't going to. "There was an... _incident_ and he was asked to be the proctor for the next stage, so he couldn't keep training you to avoid being accused of bias. So he sent us in his stead." 

 

An expression of inexplicable relief appeared on her face after the brunet's explanation and she sighed. "I thought... I thought he simply got bored of me..." she murmured, so quietly that they almost didn't hear.

 

_Almost._

 

And Kotetsu had no qualms against showing just how disturbing he found that admission. "Y’know, Genma mentioned something along those lines, but damn, kid, what did Hatake _do to you_?!" he demanded, a scowl pulling on his lips, startling the girl. "I mean, you're obviously damn competent if you're able to pull off those illusions and I thought you'd have realised by now that Genma is _not_ the type to commit to something and then just go 'y'know what, nah' when he gets bored. He's just not that type of person."

 

The rosette seemed to be weighing his words, her eyes narrowed and Kotetsu forced himself to keep up his most honest, earnest face. And then, a brilliant grin appeared and lit up her eyes with such hope and happiness that Kotetsu had to look away.

 

"Alright," she announced, getting up and walking over to them. "I'm Sakura." she introduced herself then turned an expectant face on Kotetsu, who snorted.

 

"I'm Hagane Kotetsu and this is Kamizuki Izumo. As you've noted, we are chunin and, per Genma's request, we're here to prepare you for the third stage."

 

Sakura nodded, considering. "Did Genma-san say what you're to train me in?" she asked, and Izumo shook his head.

 

"He said you'd know what to do once you saw us." he admitted and the rosette frowned.

 

"Because that's not cryptic at all." she grumbled, running a hand over her face. When she was done, her eyes were sharp, analytical. "What's your specialisation?" she asked, and Kotetsu couldn't stop his eyebrows from soaring.

 

"We're partners." he replied in a very 'duh' tone, and he knew he was being purposefully obtuse but the twitch that was forming in the girl's brow was amusing him to no end. Izumo shot him a reproachful look and dug a sharp elbow into his ribs then hastened to explain. "We specialise mostly in combo attacks – I immobilise the target with my Water Release and Kotetsu or the both of us use the weapons in our arsenal to disable them. We're proficient with the kunai blade, Tetsu's mace, tanto, katana, tetsubo, nagamaki, kusarigama- you get the hint." he finished abruptly when the rosette's eyes had widened and she was appraising them with a calculative glint in her eyes.

 

And then, she started laughing.

 

"Genma-san you cheeky bastard." she laughed, and the chuunin duo, startled at the change, couldn't help but grin cautiously, at which she quickly explained. "I told him I wanted to work on my close combat, but not _just_ taijutsu. My opponent is a Wind user, but her fan seems to be steel-reinforced or strengthened with something equally strong and she can use it like a club when it's folded up. And what do you know, Genma-san was _kind enough_ to send two weapons experts my way."

 

And then it made sense and all three shared an excited grin. "So," Kotetsu began. "do you know how you'd like to start this?" and the rosette's answering grin was bright and wicked and suddenly, Kotetsu _understood._

 

"I might." she announced. "But since you're the ones meant to be training me, how about we talk through it over dinner? My treat?"

 

Izumo grinned. "I see why Genma keeps you around." And when she laughed, his eyes sought out Kotetsu’s and the raven nodded. They would do this, and they were going to do it _well._

* * *

The next hour was spent chatting over ramen, working out the exact ins and outs of their training programme for the next two weeks. They had to admit, the rosette’s proposal to ‘reverse engineer’ bukijutsu had thrown them, but her explanation shed some much needed light and they had to admit, it made sense. “It’s how Genma-san and I approached by genjutsu.” She explained. “If I know how to defend from an attack, or the easiest way to dodge something coming at me, I’ll know what I’ll need to focus on when I actually start learning to be the one attacking. Two weeks is not long enough to become a master swordsman, but what I need is something that’ll let me check her proficiency with close-combat without getting swatted like a fly.” She frowned when silence greeted her words, and she realised both chuunin were regarding her with a mixture of surprise and satisfaction.

 

“Smart _and_ cheeky.” Kotetsu surmised. “You’re lucky you’re such a twerp or else Genma would be all over you.” He laughed, snorting when the rosette’s face twisted in distaste.

 

“Okay, ew.” She whined, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes. “Why did you have to say that, Kotetsu-san?” she moaned pathetically, shooting him a glare. “Genma-san is like, this cool, crazy uncle, you know? What you said is just– no, _ew_.” And at her explanation, even Izumo started laughing.

 

“Don’t let _him_ hear you say that, Sakura-chan.” The brunet warned, and the three of them laughed before Sakura paid for their meal and turned to them, clearly expectant.

 

“So,” she began, grinning. “shall we?”

 

She distantly regretted asking when twin, evil grins were her only response.

* * *

 

Sakura wasn’t lying when she said she thought Genma-san had gotten bored of her. That same morning, she’d woken up to a note taped on the outside of her window, and a foreboding feeling rose in her stomach before she even reached it.

_Hey kid,_

_Something came up, can’t train you today, but I will figure something out. Keep going as we’ve been practising._

_Good luck in case I don’t see you before the exam, you’ll be fine,_

_Genma_

It didn’t make her angry or frustrated as Kakashi-sensei’s note had. She just felt… resigned. She knew Genma-san wasn’t really her sensei, and she wouldn’t get to monopolise his time forever. Still, she’d hoped that he’d at least be able to train her for the duration of the month.

She’d resigned herself to spending the leftover almost two weeks doing solitary training, but then, she stumbled across Izumo and Kotetsu.

Who were sent by _Genma-san_.

 _‘I will figure something out’_ she didn’t think he would, but he _had_. And it made something warm bloom in Sakura’s chest, and she promised herself to take the tokujo out for dinner when she next saw him.

But then, she met up with the two chunin the morning of the next day and she was slightly less grateful. “You want me to run _all the way_ around the _Village_?” she questioned flatly.

They were standing on the wall that encircled the entire Village, just by the Main Gates.

Kotetsu sent her a gleeful look. “Yup! And no chakra!” he reminded her, as if she could forget. “Genma said the two of you agreed that your stamina and endurance is basically abysmal, but if we wanna train you in bukijutsu, we gotta train up your endurance at least a tad before we get started.” He didn’t stop grinning through the entire explanation and Sakura quickly moved her gaze to the slightly calmer brunet, lest she punch his partner in the face.

Seeing her gaze, Izumo smiled slightly apologetically. “You can use chakra when you feel like you’re about to collapse – we want to go train properly when you finish, this is just a way of seeing where you’re at right now, physically at least, so we know what we can and can’t introduce to you.” Sakura nodded, accepting that information, then turned to her path.

They wanted her to run _on top of the wall_ to test her balance, and use no chakra to see how good her physical endurance was without the added enhancement. And though the wall wasn’t thin by any means, a good metre in width, she had no doubt it would become problematic to stay on top of it when her head would start spinning and oxygen deprivation’d hit.

She hid a wince; she had a feeling the results would be… _embarrassing_ , to say the least.

But then, her resolve firmed, and she shed her weapons pouch and jacket, rolled up her sleeves, took a deep breath and nodded to Kotetsu. The raven nodded, eyes on his stopwatch, and his finger pressed a button at the same time as Izumo called ‘Go!!’

Then, she was running.

* * *

 

They agreed to treat the abandoned Uchiha Clan compound as the ¼ of the way mark, the Hokage Monument as the half-way point, and the training grounds behind the Nara Clan as the ¾ point. By the time the faded Uchiha crest came to view, Sakura was panting with sweat dripping off her chin and running down her back in rivulets, for once grateful the high-ponytail had become her regular hairstyle, because if she’d had her hair down and sticking to her neck, she’d have _died_. She never really considered what chakra did to the muscles, how, even before Genma-san had really taught her how to do it, her chakra was already subconsciously moving to aid her during a workout, kind of like the way blood shunts when you eat. She didn’t really notice it till she was _forbidden from doing it_. Kotetsu had instructed that she keep a tight watch on her chakra, keep it as far away from her legs and lungs as she could, and that if she gave in at any point, _they’d know_. Izumo had made it less like a threat and merely requested she keep going without chakra for as long as she _could_ , but reassured her that they’d understand if she couldn’t complete an entire lap.

She had no delusions about her stamina. She _wouldn’t_ be able to complete an entire lap, but she’d be damned if she gave in too soon.

When the Hokage Monument came into view, every muscle was screaming at her to stop, her lungs burning and contending themselves with quick, loud pants and even shorter exhales. Then, the _goddamn stairs_ etched in the side of the mountain were revealed to her, and Sakura nearly _sobbed_. She’d forgotten that in order to go round the Village, she’d have to climb up the Hokage Mountain. She slowed to a jog but determinedly didn’t stop as she climbed the first flight of stairs and forced herself to keep going despite the burn in her calves and thighs.

Once on top, she had a split second to appreciate the beautiful view of the morning sun over Konoha, quickly calculating that it’s been almost an hour since she started, but then her attention was shifted onto her burning muscles and the way she swayed with exhaustion but managed to regain her footing at the last second before she fell face-first onto the ground. She took the stairs going down two at a time, the burn marginally lesser than on the way up. She managed to muster enough energy for a sarcastic wave at a green-clad man she vaguely remembered as one of the sensei during the preliminaries as she passed him stretching by the training grounds behind the Nara Clan and tried not to scowl at his surprised expression.

She wasn’t sure what the exact circumference of the walls surrounding Konohagakure was, but she was willing to venture it was at least ten kilometres, perhaps more. As if shocked by that realisation, Sakura’s calf spasmed and she stumbled, losing her pace and freefalling till, in a ditch attempt to stop herself from falling off the walls, she called chakra to her feet and made herself stick to the ground in a vain mimicry of the tree climbing exercise.

And then, it was like she was cleansed. Her legs were refreshed with the feel of chakra running through the muscles again, the lactic acid gone and some of her fatigue receded. She vaguely noted that she passed the training grounds behind the Nara Clan a few minutes earlier and she deemed the ¾ mark a decent achievement for her first time. With chakra once again running through her system, she completed the rest of the run in a quick jog, the Main Gates coming into view and the two chunin sitting atop them waved cheerfully when she finally neared them.

“One hour and thirty one minutes.” Kotetsu announced as she came within hearing distance, hopping down from his perch atop the Gates. “And you used chakra for the last quarter. Not bad, but we’re aiming to get it down to a full circle with no chakra in under one hour by the end of these two weeks.” He promised as Izumo handed her a water bottle, a towel and a spare navy t-shirt which looked a tad too big for her, but at that point anything was better than her sweat-soaked shirt which clung to her like second skin.

“Find somewhere to get changed and stretch then meet us at the training ground over there,” he gestured past the Gates and towards the first grounds she’d run by when she set off. “and we’ll introduce you to bokujutsu as promised.”

Exhaustion making her feel little shame, Sakura easily shed her shirt, took the proffered towel, wiped her face and back and shrugged on the shirt, the same cut and material as the green one she’d dropped at her feet. It wasn’t as if she had anything to hide, nor any real cleavage to be embarrassed about beneath her chest bindings. Even when she met the surprised gazes of the chunin, the embarrassment refused to come.

She shrugged and voiced her thoughts and earned a disbelieving snort from Kotetsu and an amused glance from his partner. “You’re something else, kid, I tell you.” then they were walking towards the training grounds and Sakura tried very hard not to take the offhand comment like a compliment.

She failed.

* * *

 

_Woah._

Sakura was a bit surprised and miffed when the duo instructed her to sit on the edges of the training grounds and watch carefully, but now she understood.

They gave her a demonstration of sorts, both brandishing a preferred weapon – Izumo a tanto and Kotetsu a nagamaki – and they dodged and twirled and parried and rolled around each other in a way that was more reminiscent of a dance than a spar with an ease that spoke of a familiarity borne of many years together. Every once in a while, one would land a hit, always with the flat of the blade so as not to injure, and when they did, they’d change weapons, Izumo to a naginata, Kotetsu to a tetsubo, and they would resume their dance, their proficiency not in the least affected by the change of weapon.

With every minute that passed, Sakura’s respect for the duo grew.

And then, after about an hour passed, Izumo gestured for her to join them and she hastened to obey, forcing protesting muscles to move as she trekked over to the pair.

“That’s what we’re going to put you through.” The brunet announced, much to her confusion. “At least a week of practice with any and all weapons at our disposal, then you’ll chose the one you’re most comfortable with and we’ll spent the last week honing that one before your exam. Sound good?”

When Sakura nodded, Kotetsu smirked. “Good. Now, catch!” he threw her the sheathed tanto and bent to pick something else off the ground. When the rosette went to unsheathe the blade, Izumo sent her an enigmatic smile. “Keep it sheathed.” He instructed, then caught a single tonfa his partner threw at him.

Sakura raised an eyebrow at the wooden weapon and the bizarre instruction. Kotetsu, catching her gaze, smirked. “We’ll start with non-lethals.” He announced. “Any hit we land on you is an extra hundred metres added to your lap tomorrow.” When she paled and moved to protest, his smirk turned devious. “But any hit you land on either of us is minus fifty metres from your lap. Keep it fair, eh?”

When the rosette was about to lecture the raven on how skewed his definition of ‘fair’ was, she caught Izumo’s gaze and suddenly she _understood._

 _Spar with a defensive focus._ She realised, _Not only do I have to watch out as there’s two of them, but there’s also the added fifty metres penalty for shabby defence. It’s almost like-_

“Have you been spending a little too much time with Morino-san, hm, Kotetsu-san?” she asked absently as she settled into a stance where she could see both of them in her peripheral vision. She didn’t miss Kotetsu’s startled chuckle nor the surprised but pleased look he exchanged with his partner.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see for yourself.” He replied teasingly, a grin settling on his face which she couldn’t help but mirror.

And then they were coming at her and the game was _on_.

* * *

 

She’d sacrificed any sort of grace and femininity about two minutes into the spar. There was no way she could come out alive if she worried about appearances, regardless of the fact that both chunin were using non-lethals. So she ducked and rolled and dipped and twisted and cursed as she dodged, the admittedly short reach of the tonfa not proving to be a restriction in the slightest for the pair.

Finally, when even her bruises had bruises, Izumo called an end to the spar and she was disgusted to find that while she was dripping with sweat _again_ both chunin seemed only slightly out of breath and sporting lightly flushed cheeks.

“You got hit thirty one times in the space of an hour.” Kotetsu announced, flopping on the ground and wiping some sweat off his brow with the bottom of his shirt. “That’s an extra 3.1 kilometres to your lap tomorrow.”

Sakura groaned and collapsed beside him. “I hit you nine times.” She reminded the raven, mirroring his action. “That means it’s only two kilometres and six hundred and fifty metres extra.” Then, she fell to lie flat on her back, “That hardly makes it better!” she whined pitifully, much to the chunin’s amusement.

“After the break we’ll go for ten more minutes but reverse the rules slightly.” Izumo said, sitting down on her other side. “Minus two hundred metres for every time you land a hit on us and an extra fifty when we get one on you.”

The rosette groaned again as she turned to mumble into the grass. “ _Definitely_ too much time with Morino-san.”

But it paid off.

A week later, she could complete a lap around Konoha with no chakra in under an hour, the two graciously letting her use chakra for any extra distance she’d earned during their spars. More than that, she got to the point where she roughly knew her way around almost every weapon in the chunins’ arsenal.

Her favourite, for some bizarre reason, had been the naginata, despite the fact that it was almost taller than her. It had an edge to it which the bō lacked, and was marginally more graceful that a guan-dao as the blade could be sheathed and carried relatively comfortably which was nigh impossible with the latter.

Kotetsu’d laughed at her choice and promptly let Izumo take over, grumbling all the while about ‘deceptively nice looking people with a preference for ridiculous monster weapons’. Both the rosette and Izumo had taken the high road and ignored him.

Sakura marvelled at how comfortable she felt around the two, despite them clearly being a two-man squad with bonds that even the Hokage respected and nigh attached at the hip. Sadness filled her when she thought of her own team, how alienated she’d felt from her teammates, how angry at seeing neither hide nor hair of them since the preliminaries. Then, she realised that the two chunin had _let her_ get close, let her in after barely a week while her teammates, and even _Kakashi-sensei,_ despite how much he’d preached about teamwork and trusting each other, had yet to do the same.

It took a while, but she eventually admitted to herself that she didn’t feel a sliver of guilt when thinking of her teammates in that way, but it took Kotetsu’s personal brand of comfort for her to accept that it didn’t actually make her a horrible person. “You realised you deserve better.” He simply said while parrying a strike from her bō. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, it’s admirable.”

The second week was spent further familiarising herself with the naginata, learning to use it as more than just an elongated pickaxe and how to manoeuvre her body around it.

The two chunin were always ready with teasing grins and easy encouragement and Izumo even promised to teach her his Water Release technique if she made chunin when she told them it was her secondary element.

Sakura had smiled then divulged, “I kind of bullied Genma-san into teaching me about the Hiraishin if I pass, so this’ll be a very nice addition.” And she dug the hilt of the naginata into the ground and used it like a pivot to twirl her body round and as such missed the startled glance the duo exchanged when her back was turned, mutual understanding passing between them: Genma had taken the Yondaime’s death badly, like a personal failure, and the Hiraishin had been the only thing left over when the man was gone; they didn’t think he’d willingly…

Their eyes flickered to the rosette when she used the momentum while in the air to snap a kick at an invisible opponent. _What was it in her that was so special?_

But really, they _knew_ the answer. The rosette may dismiss herself as someone average, not particularly talented in anything, but she was determined to a fault and _deadly_ smart. Her assessment of her opponent’s skill had been thorough, and she was never quiet about her shortcomings. She acknowledged what she lacked and worked to fix it, but still never took it to the extreme. She didn’t hesitate to tell Kotetsu she wasn’t a powerhouse like her teammates, that her stamina was _shit_ and that _no,_ she’d _just_ started _,_ she _couldn’t_ do that _yet-!_ But that was just it – despite all her shortcomings and inadequacies, her attitude was not ‘ _I can’t do it I won’t ever do it’_ as was common amongst most girls, nor was it the path of ‘ _I can’t do it so I’ll slave to exhaustion trying to fix it and cause myself more harm than good’_ as most boys aspiring to be shinobi tended to take, no, it was a calculated, analytical ‘ _I can’t do it yet but give me some time and I’ll figure out why I can’t at my own pace.’._ Then, there was the fact that she took all their comments, some harsh some constructive, some complimentary with the same look in her eye, the same thirst for knowledge, for bettering herself. Neither Kotetsu nor Izumo were senseis, not like Iruka and certainly not like a genin sensei, and they were restricted by a very unforgiving time limit. But she took all their warped, free-styled teaching methods at face-value, didn’t mind their ‘we don’t have time for Points A and B so let’s skip straight to Point C’ work ethic, and what she lacked in terms of natural talent she compensated for with intelligence and steel resolve.

She’d divulged that initially, her determination had stemmed from wanting to help her teammates, from wanting to fight alongside them and not wanting to stare at their backs any longer, and they’d respected that. But then, she told them that during the Chunin Exams, she got through the Forest of Death and the preliminary fight – which they privately thought was ridiculous and inwardly hailed Genma as a miracle-worker because a battle shorter than a minute was not the work of a below-average kunoichi – with Genma’s support and encouragement and the sheer determination not to let him down, not to lay all the time he’d spent with her to waste by not giving her best.

“And now, I have two more people whom I can’t let down.” She told them bluntly, a small smile on her face cluing them into the fact that rather than annoyed or regretful, she was grateful. “So, frankly, there is no way I’m losing that match.” And Kotetsu and Izumo had exchanged a proud glance, awed at how her confidence had grown from the first time they met her, feeling as if they’d known her far longer than two weeks.

Synchronised in the way that seemed to irritate everyone but her and Genma, they grinned and told her, with equal conviction, “You won’t lose.”

The smile she shot them was brilliant and brimming with promise.

* * *

 

On the day of the final stage, Sakura walked to the stadium with the two chunin, thanking them profusely for their time and promising not to disappoint. Then, as she was about to join the other competitors, a shout of ‘Forehead!’ drew her attention.

She turned and, as expected, Ino came bounding her way, her signature ponytail swishing behind her, Choji and both of their parents hovering behind her.

“I still hate you for beating me,” she began and Sakura felt a fond smile grow on her face in spite of herself. She’d missed Ino. “but I want you to go and beat that blonde’s ass into next week, you hear me? And stop smiling like that, it’s creepy!”

“Ino!” her mother admonished while her father merely sighed, raising a hand to scrub over his face.

Sakura smiled at the blonde and lightly flicked her nose. “I beat you, didn’t I, Ino-pig? You really think she’s going to be much of a challenge?” and Ino seemed surprised at her confidence then seemed to register the implied compliment and gaped openly.

“Sakura, are you alright?” she asked worriedly, the back of her hand rising to touch the rosette’s forehead. “You’re… different.” She observed cautiously, as if worried that Sakura would lash out and yell at her.

Instead, she shrugged. “I’ve… gained perspective.” She admitted truthfully, but seeing that Ino was far from reassured, she tried something that hadn’t failed to distract Ino since she’d known her. Plastering on one of her old cocky smirks, she teased; “I’m still not letting you have Sasuke-kun, Ino- _Pig_.” And she delighted in the blonde’s indignant squawk, but before she could reply, the massive door leading to the arena where they would fight opened up, and the cheers of the crowd were overwhelming and Sakura barely heard Ino’s ‘good luck!’ call before the blonde was being ushered by her parents to the spectators’ gallery to find good seats.

Then, they were ushered to walk in and Sakura quickly moved to stand beside Naruto, sending him what she hoped was an encouraging smile before they walked through the door with the other candidates. Inside, the cheers were even more deafening and Sakura saw some of the genin cave in on themselves slightly, clearly overwhelmed. Naruto and Shikamaru were amongst those, as well as the mummy like man from the Otogakure.

But Sakura didn’t care for the crowd; her attention was elsewhere.

Because in the middle of the arena, with his omnipresent senbon in his mouth, his eyes screaming apologies and a small, secretive smile that shone with pride and encouragement and _warmth_ was Genma-san.

Suddenly, it was as if the crowds melted away and the noise faded into a pleasant hum in the light of her resolve.

_She would do this._


	6. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the response for the last chapter, here's the newest one, also a monster!  
> just for references:  
> meanings of flowers: http://www.teleflora.com/funeral-sympathy-collection/funeral-flowers-meaning  
> shogi just go on Wikipedia and same for the Japanese meals listed. that's what I did ;)  
> everything else should be fairly straightforward, but if there's anything that's weird or doesn't make sense feel free to mention it and i'll fix it!

Naruto's match with the Hyuuga was something else, but Sakura felt strangely... embarrassed. Because she could bet that despite the fact that it was the blond who'd won, Sakura was certain that in the eyes of the audience it was the Hyuuga who _triumphed_. His talent despite being a Branch House member was unprecedented and his swift delivery was something else entirely.

But she didn't have time to ponder as Sasuke was still _not there_ so his match was delayed, and the puppet master forfeited his match so suddenly it was Sakura's turn to fight and she gaped for a moment before obligingly making her way downstairs, sending Naruto a grateful smile when he cheered her on.

_I'll be alright. I have something to prove._

* * *

When Genma officially began the battle, neither of the kunoichi moved. 

Then, Temari spoke, "Forfeit." She demanded. "I don't know what trick you used during the preliminaries, but it won't work against my Wind. Save yourself the humiliation. 

And because Sakura had been spending increasingly longer amounts of time with people who lived and breathed sarcasm, she couldn't _quite_ help herself. "Awww," she cooed, delighting in the Suna-nin's confused stare. "you care. How _cute_." she grinned at the snorts from the audience before she sobered up. "But no can do, unfortunately, Temari-san." she told the other girl sagely, determination in her eyes. "You see, I have a couple of people whom I can't disappoint, so no forfeiting is taking place from my side any time soon."

Temari scowled. "You Leaf-nin are all the same." she sneered. "Fine then," and in a split-second she unclasped her fan from her back, brought it in front of her and swung. "Sickle Weasel jutsu!" she called out.

But Sakura had not been idle during that time. The moment Temari's hands reached behind her back, the rosette jumped away to create distance between them and crouched, hands flying through four seals which had become second nature to her after Genma-san's incessant training:

 _Tiger, Hare, Boar, Dog-!_ She named each in her mind before finally putting a name to the technique a she slammed her hands against the ground just as Temari went to swing her fan _, Earth Style Wall!_

The wall of earth rose up, but Sakura carefully monitored its size, not wanting to needlessly waste chakra; as such, her wall was just tall enough to cover the height of her crouching form and less that a metre wide. Safely covered from the cutting wind, the rosette pulled out a pair of goggles and a scroll. Both had been gifts from Izumo and Kotetsu and Sakura distinctly remembered the conversation that went with them:

_She stared at the goggles in her hand, noting their orange lenses and steel reinforced frames. Sakura glanced up at Kotetsu who'd been the one to hand them to her and frowned. "If this is your way of calling me out on my fashion sense, I get it okay, I know that red and pink don't go well together, I just really like red. Happy?" she'd sniped and was almost insulted when Kotetsu laughed as if she'd startled it out of him._

_"This is in no way a means of calling you out or anything of the sort." he assured her through his chuckles. "Consider it a gift – your opponent uses chakra enhanced wind, doesn't she?" when Sakura nodded, he grinned. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't fancy having to squint and cover my eyes every time she swings that damn fan of hers."_

_When Sakura realised how thoughtful the gift actually was, she blushed at her earlier words. "Sorry." She apologised, "And- thank you." then, because she really could not help herself, she grinned teasingly. "Still,_ orange _, really?"_

 _At that, it was Kotetsu's turn to grin. "Okay, I may did want to mess with you just a_ little _bit." and Sakura felt perfectly justified in the elbow she dug into his ribs in response. Then she turned to Izumo, who proffered her a simple scroll._

_"Carrying the naginata on your back is not only rather uncomfortable but also a massive giveaway of your abilities." he told her. "The sealing technique is fairly basic and I'll happily walk through it with you in a minute."_

_When she smiled, immediately appreciative, Kotetsu seemed to have recovered from her jab and threw an arm around her shoulders. "These aren't just freebies though, pinky." when she scowled at him, he grinned. "Consider them incentive. Wipe the floor with that Suna girl. She ain't got nothing on you."_

And Sakura remembered the sheer determination and gratitude that filled her then and tried to recall it as she slapped the goggles over her eyes, her vision tinting yellow, and peaked over the top of her impromptu wall. It seemed that Temari's jutsu was a double edged sword because the blonde had to stay still while it took effect and Sakura grinned. Crouching back down, she unsealed her naginata, shoved the scroll back into one of her pockets and waited. 

When the wind finally started to recede, she didn't give Temari any time to recuperate: pumping chakra into her feet, she vaulted over the wall and, naginata in hand, and ran towards the blonde. She noticed the minute widening of Temari's eyes as she ran towards her and grinned. Unsheathing her blade, she made a slicing motion towards the blonde's abdomen using the extra reach of her weapon of choice to cover the last few metres between them. Temari was forced to snap her fan shut and jump back a little to avoid getting disembowelled, but Sakura wasn't done. She followed after the blonde, swipe after strike after jab, graceless but insistent, not letting the Suna-nin open her fan again and forcing her on the defensive. Finally, it seemed as if Temari's patience ran out and she grabbed her fan with two hands and forced one of Sakura's next blows aside, aiming to overbalance the rosette and force _her_ on the defensive. 

But Sakura had practised dodging _two_ weapons at once from people _far_ more skilled at close-combat than Temari was, so she merely twirled out of the way of the blonde's next strike and fell into a familiar dance of barely-there, dodging at the last possible second, her grin not leaving her face even as sweat began to bead on her brow and her breathing quickened. 

She'd learnt this particular fighting style from Izumo – a method of not only _minimising_ the amount of wasted energy by performing smaller, more precise evasions, but also limiting the amount of time during which she lost sight of her opponent. The added benefit was that she'd witnessed first-hand how frustrated Kotetsu had become after a few minutes of not being able to land a _single_ meaningful blow, and she hoped Temari was equally impatient. 

Her prayers were answered a second later; "Eugh!!" the kunoichi groaned, and Sakura could see how tired she was getting, not only from being forced into close-combat which probably wasn't her forte despite being surprisingly proficient at it, but also from the sheer _weight_ of her fan. Sakura's naginata, despite its size, was actually really light and allowed her to use the wide swing to conserve her energy by mooching off of its momentum. Temari's fan was more like a club in this context: a big, heavy brute of a weapon. 

"Stop. _Moving_!!" the Suna kunoichi shrieked and Sakura decided to tempt her luck; she stayed in place, directly in front of Temari for a second longer than she normally would, and the blonde jumped on the opportunity. She swung her shut fan over her head and drove it down with enough force that Sakura had no doubt it would’ve crushed every little bone in her body if she’d let it hit her. 

But, at the last possible second, when she could literally  _see_ the individual scratches on the fan's frame, the rosette hopped backwards and let the fan bury itself a good six inches into the ground with the sheer force Temari had put behind the blow. 

And then, when Temari struggled to pull the weapon out, Sakura quickly sprang forward, chakra in her feet, and she used the fan still embedded in the ground almost as a _springboard_ , running up to its very hilt and delivering a harsh kick to Temari's chin, feeling something crunch beneath her heel.

The kunoichi was sent flying back a good five metres before she skidded to a stop, but Sakura didn't wait to see her handiwork, no. She jumped back, once again placing herself closer to her earth wall, having no doubt she'd need to hide behind it again in a moment and she went through another familiar set of seals;

_Snake, Rat-! Hell Viewing technique!!_

But just as she completed the seals, Temari forced herself to her feet, fury in her eyes. "You little bitch!" she snarled as she ran towards her abandoned fan, snapping it open to reveal all three circles, "I'll show you! Sickle Weasel jutsu!!"

Praying that the Hell Viewing technique would take effect soon, Sakura once again vaulted over the wall to hide from the cutting wind, but this time, after quickly assessing her chakra levels, a plan began forming in her mind. She waited till the last of the wind died out before she peaked out again, only to see the patented scowl on the kunoichi's face. She barely stifled a sigh at the taunting that followed.

"All you do is hide and dodge! Coward!! Fight me properly!!" when Sakura merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow, refusing to rise to the bait, Temari scowled and switched tactics. "I don't know what you thought it would accomplish, but if you think that a jutsu with just _two seals_ is enough to beat _me_  you've got another think-!" but before she could finish her taunt, Temari's eyes glossed over and Sakura grinned. 

She straightened up, delivered a Genma-worthy one-liner, flashed through the – hopefully last for that match – set of seals and prayed her luck would last as she melted into the ground.  

_Earth Release: Underground Projection Fish technique._

Inwardly, Sakura grinned; _Checkmate_. 

 

* * *

 

 There were a few gasps and incredulous shouts when the Sand kunoichi was sent flying back, but mostly, the shinobi spectators were just amused.

A little pink haired girl from a civilian family against one of the Kazekage's children; on paper, that match should've been over before it even started. However, on paper, that should've also been true for the Yamanaka heir, but she had been defeated so quickly and soundly in the preliminaries that it was almost humiliating. And when the news of the rosette's match up spread to the Jounin HQ, there were some who were willing to place their money on another surprise from the civilian girl in the final rounds. 

When the girl pulled out the naginata that was almost taller than her, there were a handful of sarcastic 'good luck' calls from some of the more cynical shinobi. But then, the rosette started handling it, and though graceless and definitely unpolished, it was enough to force the Suna girl out of her comfort zone. And when her seemingly never-ending bout of last minute dodges after she’d been forced on the defensive culminated in a firm kick to the blonde's chin that sent her flying, some of the cynics had been forcefully silenced. 

 Yet, as the blonde recovered from the second wave of chakra enhanced wind enough for the taunting to start anew, nobody quite expected for her to suddenly break off into incoherent mumbling randomly interspersed with short, blood-curdling screams. Finally, the rosette straightened from her crouch and sent a crooked grin at the screaming blonde.

“That's the thing with genjutsu;" she announced cheerfully, barely heard over the blonde's shrieks. "just when you think it didn't work, it comes back to _bite you in the ass._ " 

 There were snorts and laughter amongst some of the audience but they quickly died away when the pinkette went through a set of distinctly unfamiliar handsigns and proceeded to _melt into the ground_ just as at least thirty clones replaced her. No later than the last pink strand disappeared underground did Temari snap herself out of the illusion, her gaze wide-eyed and _furious_. 

 "I've got no idea where you get off on doing that, but you should know that no bunshin can withstand my Wind jutsu!" she declared heatedly and swung her fan again. "The one left will be you!"

  _"_ Not quite." the spectres murmured in eerie unison. 

 And as the merciless wind cut through the air once again, not a single clone disappeared.

Confused whispers filled the arena.

  _"Shadow Clones? Wouldn't be the first genin to do them today."_

_"No way, I'm thinking genjutsu."_

_"Not standard bunshin, that's for damn sure."_

_"Why not? They're not casting shadows either."_

Everyone saw the moment something clicked in the blonde's mind. They watched as she pulled out a kunai and flung it at the closest clone, only for the knife to go right through it.

 The next conclusion was also clear, but as Temari drew her hands into the 'kai' seal, her minute of inattention cost her. With her eyes closed and her focus solely on disrupting her chakra flow, she didn’t notice the figure that rose up from the ground behind her.

Her chakra almost completely masked, the rosette emerged from the earth like something out of a horror movie, kunai in hand.

 "Temari!!" came Kankuro's frantic yell. "Behind you!!" but before the blonde could whirl around, Sakura took the last two steps and pressed the kunai to her throat much the same way as she had done to Ino. 

 "I do not wish to hurt you but I _will_ if you even _think_ of moving." she whispered in Temari's ear.

 But it seemed that she underestimated her opponent. Quicker than the rosette could react, the blonde seized her wrist and used the hand that was pressing the knife to her jugular to pull the pinkette over her shoulder and throw her into the ground a few metres in front of her.

 The rosette’s back impacted the ground with a dull thud and she let out a winded ‘oof’ as the breath was knocked out of her, but Temari wasn’t done. For the fourth time since the beginning of the match, the Suna-nin swung her fan, the merciless wind once again filling the arena. Without the cover of her wall to protect her, the audience could clearly see as deep scratches appeared on Sakura’s cheeks and uncovered hands, but the rest of her body was luckily covered by her clothes. When she managed to get her breath back, the rosette rolled to her knees, one hand cradling her left side around the area of her ribcage as she waited till the last of the wind died down.

 Calling on the last vestiges of her chakra, Sakura flashed through two more sets of seals. The first one produced two Academy-standard bunshin, while the second one allowed her to melt into the ground for the second time.

“The same trick won’t work again!!” Temari called out, but nobody missed how she intentionally didn’t try to attack the clones, clearly unsure whether these really where standard bunshin or not. There was a moment of silence and stillness as everyone waited for the rosette to surface, the Suna kunoichi growing more and more anxious by the minute. “Is every Leaf-nin a coward like you?” she called out mockingly, then suddenly shrieked:

 An arm stretched up from the ground below her, grabbing her shin in a bruising grip and yanking hard towards the ground. Shrieking all the while, Temari smashed her folded fan on the hand gripping her leg, clearly breaking the fragile bones but also opening a deep, vicious gash in her own shin. Something that sounded like a muffled scream came from the ground before another arm rose up and successfully managed to grab the Suna-nin’s other shin and a second later, the blonde was buried up to her neck in the hard earth, rendered completely immobile.

 A moment later, the rosette emerged a few metres away from where Temari was buried, her right hand cradling her mangled left to her chest and tear-tracks visible on her cheeks, her lip bitten bloody, but there was an angry, victorious glint in her eyes.

 “Initially, I planned to let you surrender gracefully.” She hissed, her eyes glaring daggers at the immobilised kunoichi. “I wanted to let you keep some of that arrogant dignity you seem to hold so dear. But now?” she went on, letting her injured hand drop limply at her side. “Now, I’m not feeling so kind. Unless, of course,” she turned to Genma, “the proctor thinks you can somehow keep fighting.”

 Genma was pleased to note that some of the anger in the rosette’s eyes melted away when their eyes met and he had to resist snorting at her comment. He coughed to mask his grin and spoke:

"Due to the fact that Temari is no longer able to fight, I declare Haruno Sakura the winner of this match."

Ear-shattering cheers broke out.  

* * *

 

It was only after Genma-san advised her to go to the infirmary to get her hand checked out did the seriousness and absolute _pain_ of her injury override the wave of adrenaline she’d been riding since the start of the match. Sakura had to pause in her tracks and stuff the knuckles of her uninjured hand into her mouth to stifle her scream.

If she were to wager, Temari had managed to smash almost every bone in her left hand and it hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced before. And then, the fact that shinobi relied on their hands more than almost any other body part caught up with her and she could feel herself start to hyperventilate.

 _Oh, god what if they_ can’t _fix it? This looks seriously damaged! What happens if I’ll never have my dexterity back? I’m barely a genin I can’t afford not to be able to go on missions because I can’t form any jutsu! I’ll be useless for real oh god why didn’t I forfeit-!_

“Hey!” a sharp voice managed to stop her inner panic and she was suddenly faced with a pair of cold though slightly red-rimmed lilac eyes. “You need to breathe.” The brunet commanded, his eyes boring into her and daring her to disobey. It took enormous effort for Sakura to calm down enough to listen, but as she forced herself to take a deep breath, it felt like she’d finally broken the surface after being underwater for a long time. The boy’s eyes softened marginally when he saw her take another deep breath and he asked, “Do you want me to call a medic?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Sakura nodded, almost calling out when he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner. The boy was back not a minute later and Sakura calmed down enough by that point to absently note that his posture was _impeccable_.

“They should be here in a moment.” He announced and Sakura nodded gratefully.

“Th-thank you.” She stammered out, still not quite recovered from her short but vicious panic-attack.

The boy nodded before his eyes flickered to her injured hand. “That was a good fight.” He murmured absently, his eyes trained on the broken bones. “I wasn’t aware that there was a clan in Konoha that specialised in Earth Release.” When his eyes met hers, there was an inquisitive glint in them and Sakura felt herself blush.

 _Pretty._ Was her main thought, exhausted and slightly delirious as she was.

“There isn’t.” she blurted. “Or, at least, my family isn’t.” when the boy’s only response was to raise a – _sleek, perfect, why is he so pretty_ – eyebrow, the rosette’s blush deepened and she clarified with a slightly squeaky; “My parents are civilian!”

She didn’t miss how his eyes widened slightly, but he only nodded thoughtfully. Before either he or Sakura could say something again, three medics appeared, two carrying a stretcher between them. When the boy merely nodded towards her and turned to leave – (Sakura would later blame her delirium for her forwardness) – she called out;

“Wait!” when he stopped obligingly, though didn’t turn to face her, she continued, “I didn’t catch your name!”

There was a hint of a smirk on his face as he finally turned around. “I’m Hyuuga Neji.” Then, he was gone and Sakura was shepherded away by the medics.

It wouldn’t come to her until _after_ her hand had been thoroughly healed and bandaged and she’d been reassured that she’d have full dexterity back within a day the _latest_ and one of the nurses had helped her fully calm down just _why_ the boy had seemed so _familiar_ :

He was the one who preached about fate and destiny and later had his ass handed to him on a silver platter by none other than _Naruto_ not moments before her own fight.

Inwardly, Sakura despaired. _Why are the pretty ones always assholes?_

Then, the fact that he’d actually _complimented_ her – well, her battle but still – finally registered and she was sure her face became as pink as her hair.

_Damn it all._

* * *

 

She was released from the makeshift hospital just in time to catch the end of Shikamaru’s battle against the Oto-nin, and Sakura had to admit, she was impressed. She’d asked Naruto to catch her up which he did with no small degree of enthusiasm, and Sakura grudgingly noted that Shikamaru was a _genius_ behind that trademark laziness of his. Genma-san had told her something of the like, that it was somewhat an inherent personality quirk amongst the Nara, but to hear about it was nothing in comparison to seeing it with her own two eyes.

And then, as she was crunching a protein bar in hopes of speeding up the process of refilling her chakra reserves, Shikamaru promptly caught the Sound-nin with his shadows, and the rosette was equal parts amused and annoyed that he used the shadow cast by the wall she’d created and the holes left behind by Naruto’s battle with Neji to increase the reach of his jutsu.

She scoffed, _once a lazy freeloader, always a lazy freeloader, genius or no._

Shikamaru then had the gall to forfeit, using the excuse of his ‘chakra running low’ and the fact that he couldn’t hear out of one ear as justification.

Sakura saw red. _What a little-!_

It seemed the rest of the audience, who had been so captivated and impressed by the Nara’s unexpectedly-impressive handling of the situation not even seconds previous, shared her indignation and started booing the teen.

But then, the rosette reconsidered; _though, really, it’s_ smart _that he forfeited. He would’ve had to fight me if he won and I would’ve had a longer recuperation period than him, not by much but still enough to make a difference. And though I don’t doubt that in light of recent events he could probably think a good hundred steps ahead of me, that still doesn’t change the fact that he’d have_ nothing _to combat my naginatai should I have used it on him. And Genma-san_ did _say that you can still get promoted if you show qualities of a chunin even if you don’t win your match. Even if not, Shikamaru himself said he cares little for the advancement…_

She stared at the Nara with wide eyes and newly found respect. _So, he really_ is _a lazy genius. What an oxymoron._

Yet, not a second after Dosu and Shikamaru cleared the arena, there was a swirl of leaves and in a much more showy fashion than Sakura could find it in herself to appreciate, her two other teammates appeared.

Sasuke-kun and Kakashi-sensei.

She was guiltily delighted that Genma-san didn’t seem to share the crowd’s sudden ecstasy at the Uchiha’s arrival; quite the contrary – he stiffly instructed her sensei to go find himself a spot in the audience while he called down Gaara to finally begin the much-delayed match.

But Sakura’s attention was derailed from the scene below as Shikamaru chose that moment to join the rest of the competitors at the balcony and she winced when Naruto immediately jumped on him with accusations of being too lazy for his own good and insults and waving fists. Sakura took it upon herself to whack her teammate none-too-gently on the back of his head to get him to quieten down, then, when her eyes fell on Shikamaru, she gestured wordlessly to the spot beside her, far away from the obnoxious blond that was her teammate and away from the other Sand Siblings. The Nara ambled over to the indicated spot and they turned their attention to the match taking place below them.

After a few seconds, Sakura broke the silence, her earlier thoughts demanding to be voiced. “That was clever,” she complimented, her eyes not leaving the arena. “lazy, but clever.”

She felt more than saw Shikamaru’s sideways glance at her and quietly elaborated. “You might’ve been low on chakra, but more than that, you had an unknown factor to account for.” She murmured, finally turning to face him. She almost jumped at the calculative gaze that greeted her, but continued. “And you probably didn’t know how you’d deal with bukijutsu being used against you.”

The look in Shikamaru’s eyes turned sharp. “I didn’t think I’d _need_ to know how to deal with it when I was preparing for this.” There was an implied _I wouldn’t have needed to know how to deal with it a month ago_ in his voice and Sakura shrugged, a half-grin on her face.

“You do what you gotta do.” She answered enigmatically, making Shikamaru snort.

She thought she heard a grumbled _troublesome woman_ but she couldn’t be sure. Deeming that conversation over, she turned to watch the match.

It seemed that Sasuke-kun’s month of training had been focused on teaching him Lee’s taijutsu and speed, and though impressive, Sakura couldn’t help the bitter taste that formed in her mouth. It just… didn’t seem _fair_.

And then, when the sand surrounding Gaara fell down, all hell broke loose.

Sakura felt a wave of fatigue nearly make her lose her feet and she gripped the banister to keep standing. Then, when she forced her mind to work despite the tiredness that seemed to sink deep into her bones and the heaviness of her eyelids, she noted hints of foreign chakra in her body.

 _Genjutsu…_ she thought weakly. _Genjutsu! Kai!_

Immediately, the fatigue lifted away and she was able to appraise the rest of the stadium. It seemed… it seemed as if Konoha was under attack. There were dozens of ninja dressed in foreign garb attacking shinobi in the tell-tale navy-and-green of Konoha’s jounin, and Sakura tensed. Then, the Sand Siblings jumped down into the arena, seized the barely-conscious Gaara and between them, carried him out of the arena, disappearing over the wall.

Sasuke-kun immediately tore off after them, and Sakura nearly shrieked when two kunai sailed after the Uchiha, straight and true with his back as their target. At the last second, they were knocked off their course and Sasuke-kun was able to scale the wall with ease.

But Sakura’s attention was on the two left in the arena – Genma-san and the man she belatedly realised was the Sand Siblings’ sensei. There was a deep, fearsome scowl on his face, and all of his ire was directed at the brunet. And then, he was on him, and Sakura moved before her body quite caught up, her hands flying to unseal the naginata, an anthem of _not Genma-san, please, not Genma-san I beg you-!_ Repeating in her mind like a mantra.

She landed soundlessly, ignoring Genma-san’s wide eyes when he saw her, and moved quicker than she ever had before, driven on by some foreign desperation to _protect,_ she flashed behind the Suna-nin, and with chakra coursing through her arms and enveloping her weapon in a baby-blue glow, she slashed at the man’s back, channelling all her anger and fear and desperation into the strike.

He crumbled to the ground in a heap, an angry gash splitting his back from the left shoulder to right hip and bleeding freely.

Sakura’s hands convulsed and dropped the naginata. She fell to her knees and vomited beside the fallen jounin’s feet. She was shaking.

“Kid, hey, kid, breathe!” Genma-san was at her side, his hand on her shoulder as she shook. Sakura swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand and forced herself to stand, and the tokujo caught her when she swayed. His eyes were worried but the set of his mouth was firm, angry and determined. “You alright?”

Sakura nodded, turning away from the body on the ground. She didn’t know if he was dead, but she couldn’t find the will in herself to check. The growing pool of blood around him was enough to assure her he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

“Genma-san… what’s happening?” she whispered, barely heard over the commotion of the battle raging all around them but she couldn’t bring herself to speak any louder.

“I think Oto and Suna joined forces and invaded.” The tokujo murmured, equally quiet and Sakura shuddered.

“I… Is there anything I can do?” she asked after a beat, feeling guilty for keeping the brunet’s to herself when a _war_ raged around them.

“There was a genjutsu, right?” Genma-san asked rhetorically, his voice much calmer and steadier than Sakura felt. “I want you to get to the stands and try to break anyone you feel may be a ninja out of it; there will doubtless be some who missed it or didn’t manage to break it. You’re good with genjutsu, you’ll be fine, and it’ll keep you out of the direct line of fire.”

Sakura nodded, but couldn’t stop herself from asking, “And… and you?”

Genma-san shot her what was meant to be a reassuring grin, but fell miles short. “I’ll be fine – I’ll be doing what I do best, after all.”

And then, Sakura really couldn’t stop herself. She threw her arms around the man’s shoulders and squeezed, stammering into his collar; “You’re not allowed to die, okay?” and she pulled away before he could respond and picked up her naginata before disappearing into the melee to do what he’d tasked her with.

She missed Genma’s answering “Neither are you.”

* * *

 

But Kakashi didn’t.

He’d made his way to the competitor’s balcony, trusting Gai to handle himself while he got together those he could find to go after Sasuke. The boy wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ handle the one-tail’s jinchuuriki and his siblings all by himself, particularly not after already using Chidori once.

What he _didn’t_ count on was Sakura jumping down into the arena, not to go after Sasuke or hide, but to wield a weapon almost taller than her with practised ease and bring it down on the Sand-nin’s back with the intent to _kill_ radiating from every line of her body, not a single care if he lived or died after he fell.

Nor did he could on her throwing herself on Genma afterwards with a familiarity that, in his eyes, had no right to _be there_.

And then she jumped into the stands, disappearing amongst those still out-cold and those already fallen, right into the heart of the conflict which the Sakura _he_ knew; the rational, if a bit cowardly Sakura, would’ve avoided like the plague.

His eyes fell on Genma and his confusion grew. Was that _worry_ he saw in the usually unflappable tokujo’s eyes as he gazed after the rosette? But Kakashi didn’t have much time to think about that, as not a second later Genma too disappeared into the throng, kunai and senbon gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Absently, Kakashi drove the kunai in his hand into one Sound-nin’s eye and shoved his elbow into another’s nose. He’d have to have a serious talk with his pink-haired student once this whole mess was over.

* * *

 

In retrospect, breaking Konoha-nin out of the illusion seemed easy – when she was actually amongst the unconscious masses, most of whom were dressed in civilian clothing, she realised it was anything but. At first, she navigated by who still had a hitai-ate or a kunai pouch with them, but that mostly produced genin, who, after some brief thought and a helpful tip from one of the jounin fighting nearby, Sakura directed to helping evacuate the Academy.

After the fourth person she broke out of the genjutsu, the rosette settled on a simple mantra – “Sand and Sound invaded Konoha. If you’re a genin, help evacuate the Academy. If chunin or above, help in the fighting.”

It was only when she got to her tenth person that she got more than a nod and a quick thanks. The man was young and had a dark, neatly trimmed goatee and despite his clear youth, seemed to radiate confidence.

“How about someone stays to protect _you_?” he asked as he stood and settled behind her. Sakura had taken to crouching as much as she could as she shuffled in-between the benches and legs of those still unconscious, but she straightened to shoot him an incredulous look at which he smiled wryly. “I used to guard the Yondaime. Let’s say I’m more inclined to protecting than I am to killing.” He explained as he casually threw two kunai at a running Oto-nin which embedded in his thigh and sent him tumbling down the stairs.

Satisfied, Sakura nodded hesitantly and cracked a smile. “Then I’d appreciate your help.” She acquiesced and continued with her task. She _was_ surprised nobody noted what she was doing, but she reckoned that the enemy-nin were kept too busy by the jounin to pay attention to a measly genin, even _if_ she had pink hair.

For once, Sakura thanked the gods for her weak, easily underestimated appearance.

“You can extend your senses to see who has most chakra rather than going by anyone who _looks_ like a ninja.” The chunin advised her and Sakura nearly smacked her forehead when she registered what he said.

_I’m so dumb._

“I… I forgot about that.” She said instead and did as instructed, calming down and stretching out her senses.

_There._

She hopped two rows down to a rather large man with a small goatee and a bandana. Behind her, her temporary protector snorted derisively. “You’d expect a _sensei_ to know the basics.” When Sakura snapped the man out of the illusion and relayed her, by then, _customary_ brief of the situation, he sprang up quicker than she’d expect from a man his size and, after a quick thanks, shunshined away.

“You knew him?” Sakura asked the chunin beside her, turning to small talk as her only chance at normalcy in this completely messed up situation.

“Yeah,” the man replied somewhat amusedly. “He was my Academy sensei, Funeno-san.”

The rosette nodded and extended her senses again, coming across a nin who, even unconscious had such volatile chakra that she flinched. When she navigated towards him, still trying to keep low, she nearly face-palmed that she hadn’t noticed him before: he had bandages covering his eyes.

When she snapped him out, she had just about enough time to say “Oto and Suna have turned against us-” before his mouth twitched and suddenly, Sakura was pushed down to the ground, landing heavily on her knees and scraping her palms, her recently-healed hand giving a twinge of protest at the rough treatment. When she dared glance up, she saw one the bandaged man’s hands pushing a knife into a Sound-nin’s gut while another parried the blow of a katana. She watched in a mixture of shock and fascination as he twisted the knife and pulled it upwards, skewering the enemy nin before he let go and the man dropped like a sack of potatoes and stayed still. “Sand and Sound, you said?” and Sakura vaguely recognised him as the man who roughed up one of the genin during the theory exam, and she nodded in answer to his question. “And I take it Iwashi volunteered to be your protector?”

Sakura didn’t recognise the name, but the man’s gaze seemed to be focused over her shoulder, and when Sakura followed it she found the chunin who’d sworn to protect her fending off two Suna-nin. Not thinking much beyond _help_ Sakura pulled out two kunai and sent them flying one towards one of the nin’s head and another at his foot. He parried the one aiming at head but her other knife buried itself in his foot and he swayed, providing ‘Iwashi’ with a big enough window to slash at his throat and bury his other knife in the other nin’s eye socket.

The rosette gagged at the same time as the bandaged nin muttered “Charming.”

“Tonbo!” the chunin dubbed Iwashi greeted as he joined them, wiping his kunai on the leg of his pants. “You got caught under too?” he asked in a way that was painfully similar to the usual mocking that went on between Naruto and Sasuke-kun.

“Shut up.” The bandaged chunin sniped. “You were doing a shit job if you were guarding her back.” He nodded towards Sakura. “Kid might have the right idea breaking me out but she could use some situational awareness.”

Iwashi scowled. “You’re at least the tenth person she broke out under my watch, though I’m certain there were more before she got to me. I think she’s allowed to be a bit out of it.”

And Sakura tried not to show how touched she was that the chunin would jump to her defence which, for once was quite easy as she could feel irritation bubble up when Tonbo opened his mouth to, no doubt, snap back.

“Excuse me,” she cut in before he had the chance to. “but could we perhaps save the bickering to a time when, oh, I don’t know, we _aren’t_ surrounded by enemy shinobi?” she snapped, letting her short-tempered side make an appearance. Both chunin turned to her in slightly stunned silence, but then Tonbo smirked.

“Well, in any case, I suppose two pairs of eyes are better than one.” When Sakura sent him an incredulous look he scowled. “Get to it, kid.”

So she did, and five more chunin and one tokujo were broken out of the illusion while the chunin guarded her back. And then, when her chakra fell to worryingly low levels and she took a split-second break before she moved onto her next target, she grew worried to note that they’d moved to the part of the stands that seemed to have the most fighting going on around them and it was with a sick feeling in her stomach that she noted that both Iwashi and Tonbo were currently engaged with five enemy shinobi between them. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Sakura set her hands in the seal for the invisibility genjutsu but was forced to abandon it when a kunai with her name on its hilt came sailing at her head. She ducked, barely managing to evade it, and when she straightened there were suddenly two Sound-nin in front of her, matching camouflage outfits and fearsome scowls in place.

Sakura managed to duck the kick aimed at her head from one and mostly twirl out of the way of the elbow aimed at her ribs, but a punch to the solar plexus left her gasping for breath and seeing stars. She fell to her knees and in a ditch attempt to do _something_ she slammed her palms against the ground and channelled chakra. She was surprised to find herself _sinking into_ the stone of the gallery floor, but underground seemed much safer than above ground. She stayed under for a few seconds as she waited for the pain to recede and give her a chance to catch her breath, then sought out one of the nin who’d attacked her with her chakra. Moving just beneath him, she forced her arm above ground and snagged his ankle, pulling him under as she clambered to pull herself out of the softened stone. She kicked the head of the Oto-nin that poked out of the ground, knocking him unconscious.

 _Unconscious or dead,_ her mind supplied. What mattered was _not after her anymore._

But no sooner had she done that did the nin’s partner show up once again, kunai in hand and fury in his eyes. Sakura ducked, rolled, but ended up taking a deep gash to her shoulder in exchange for the deep, gaping wound she left in the other nin’s stomach. Hands flashing through seals that had become second nature, she called forth the last vestiges of her chakra and cast the Hell-Viewing technique, but she didn’t trust it to keep the man occupied for long. Even before she saw his eyes glaze over, she was unsealing her naginata and delivering a quick, decisive swipe, cutting the nin’s throat open to the point where arterial spray managed to get on her jacket as he went down and her stomach roiled again at the sight.

She had enough time to see Iwashi’s widened eyes before a shadow fell over her and a sharp, searing pain in her left side nearly knocked her off her feet.

Then came a heavy blow to the back of her head and Sakura’s vision went black.

* * *

 

Genma sat on one of the cheap, plastic chairs provided by the hospital, eyes on the splash of pink against the backdrop of stark hospital white.

Three weeks.

She’d been in a coma for _three weeks_. And that wasn’t even the _worst_ news he’d heard over that time.

Then, he sensed a figure in the corner of the room and his irritation spiked. “Why are you _hiding_ , Hatake?” he snapped, patience wearing thin.

Kakashi appeared, signature book in place and the fake eye-smile he always utilised when he wanted to get under people’s skin shining clear. “I’m not hiding, I’m watching.” Then, all pretence of civility was abandoned. “I heard that it was _your_ orders that put _my_ student in a _coma_. Excuse me if I’m a bit uneasy letting you spend time with her unattended.”

Genma scowled. “Ah, yes, because _your_ orders would’ve been so much better – _you_ would’ve had her fight a _jinchuuriki_. I merely placed her in a position where she could do what she was _good at_ with a much lower risk to her life, and from what I hear, she did a _damn good job_.”

“Yes, because landing in a _hospital_ for three weeks with a _concussion_ constitutes a job well done.” The jounin replied, his words dripping with condescension as he snapped his book shut. “I know you’re _shit_ at protecting those close to you but I wouldn’t have expected for you to _meddle_ with _my_ student.”

Genma’s blood ran cold and he saw red. “If I hadn’t _meddled_ , as you put it, she would’ve been _dead_ not _unconscious_.” He hissed, rising to his feet. “Probably wouldn’t even have survived the goddamn _Forest_ with the amount of attention _you_ paid her. Why is it you only start caring about people after they’re dead or dying, hm, Hatake?”

He’d pushed too far. Deep in his mind, Genma felt guilt flare up, but that was swallowed by the sheer _anger_ he felt at the man in front of him. “Did you even _see_ her match? I know you _expected_ her to lose, what with not even assigning her a trainer for the month, but did you _see_ it? She won, and she won _soundly_.”

“And I expect you want some _medal_ for that, do you?” Kakashi snapped, stepping closer. “Sakura was always a capable kunoichi, I’m not blind nor stupid despite what you seem to be implying.”

“ _Really_?” Genma asked in mock shock. “Then why did you never clue in to the fact that she’s a _genjutsu_ type, and got her started on something appropriate? Why did it take an _A-Rank mission_ which she shouldn’t have even _been on_ for her to start to work on her skills? She’s got amazing control, she’s intelligent and incredibly determined. If you actually saw something more than the lone Uchiha on your team then she could’ve started training seriously from the start and been in intel-gathering in the next year or so; she’s definitely got the smarts for it!”

Kakashi’s gaze turned cold. “Because I wanted my team to enjoy being _children_.” He spat. “Though you didn’t seem to have those scruples; she’ll land in a _wet-works squad_ with how _you’ve_ been guiding her!” the jounin lost his temper, taking one last step so less than a metre separated him from Genma.

The man in question flinched. “We’re _shinobi_.” He stressed. “They can’t stay children forever, and they’ll die before they hit puberty if you keep up with this bullshit you call teaching.” Genma scolded. “But you really should get to know your genin better; their life won’t be sunshine and rainbows forever and Sakura _knows_ that, more than that, she can handle it!”

“She _puked_ when she cut down that Sand ninja!”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve never let her fight any _actual_ battles! How do you expect her to be used to the sight of blood when you’ve never let her get _near_ it?!”

“I don’t _want her_ to get near it!” Kakashi snapped, though he cut himself off when he saw the worriedly satisfied look in the tokujo’s eyes.

“Ah,” Genma murmured at last, contemplative and far calmer than he was mere seconds ago. “I see. This explains quite a lot.”

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed when a lazy smirk stretched across the brunet’s lips. “You don’t see _Sakura_ when you look at her. You see the Nohara girl.”

For a moment, the Kakashi too saw red. Then he was moving forward, electricity gathering in his hand and aiming at the tokujo’s smug smirk, Genma’s own hand reaching for his poison dipped senbon when-

“Oi, idiots, _calm down_!” Tsunade’s strong voice commanded, freezing both in their tracks, Kakashi’s Chidori crackling out of existence. “There will be no more fighting over prepubescent genin or you’ll both be _removed_ from active service for as long as I please, understood?”

“Hai, Tsunade-sama.” Genma murmured, stepping down graciously and tucking his senbon away. Kakashi merely nodded, taking a step back though his visible eye remained narrowed dangerously.

“And Hatake, if I see you pull that technique one more time while you’re meant to be recovering, I’ll personally shove my foot so far up your a-!”

“-Tsunade-hime, no need to get _crude_.” Jiraiya teased as he too ambled into the room. “I think it’s positively _adorable_ they were fighting over the girl. If she were slightly older this would’ve been like something straight out of one of my books: two jealous lovers, fighting over-!”

“Jiraiya, you’ll be sharing Hatake’s fate if you don’t _shut up_ this _instant_.” Tsunade hissed as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

The Toad Sannin wisely fell silent. Tsunade walked over to the bedridden pinkette, her hand glowing first white then green as it rested over her forehead before she lightly poked it and stepped back.

To their surprise, the rosette’s eyes began moving beneath her eyelids before a frown creased her brows and she attempted to pry them open only to curse hoarsely and flinch when light hit her retinas. Hands flying to cover her eyes she turned on her side, muttering something about _waking up in dark rooms instead of this what even why would you-_

“Kid,” Tsunade cut her off though the corner of her lips twitched up in amusement. “look at me.”

Grudgingly, Sakura turned towards the voice and tried opening her eyes again, only for them to widen and her jaw to drop when they fell on Tsunade. Her gaze travelled from the woman’s face to her obvious cleavage then back to her face as they settled on the diamond in the middle of her forehead.

“I- but- you- you should be at least-!” she spluttered, frowning when she tried to force her sluggish, half-asleep brain to do some basic maths. “At least fifty!” she exclaimed at last, not noticing the twitch that formed in Tsunade’s brow. “How can you look like you’re not a day over twenty five?” she demanded, too out of it to realise her blunder.

Her eyes flashed to the other occupants of the room, noting Kakashi-sensei’s angry gaze and Genma’s relieved expression and how the white-haired man seemed to be barely stifling his laughter.

_Wait. White haired?_

“Genma-san,” she called out before Tsunade had a chance to respond. At the brunet’s obliging ‘yes, kid?’ she continued “why are two of the Legendary Sannin gathered in my hospital room?” she asked cautiously.

(Kakashi tried not to dwell on the fact that she asked Genma, not him, and he shot a glare at the brunet, who, judging by the smug smile on his face also noticed the slip-up.)

“Well, brat, one of those Sannin is now your Hokage, so you might wanna show some more respect.” He answered though there was a grin on his face. “Just, y’know, as a forewarning.” He teased.

Sakura frowned as her eyes flickered between the two legends. “Hokage? But…” she scowled when her drugged mind refused to work as fast as she needed it to. “But Jiraiya-sama denied Hokageship when it was first offered to him so why would he change his mind? And Tsunade-sama cut all ties with the Village a good twenty years ago…so why…?” she was muttering to herself, clearly thinking out loud but seemingly unaware of it thus she didn’t notice when Tsunade’s irritated look melted into something surprised while Jiraiya looked contemplative.

“Because I lost a bet with a blond brat so I had to come back and assume the position I never wanted.” Tsunade answered at last. “And Jiraiya has nothing better to do, apparently.”

“Maa, hime, that hurts, you know?” the Sannin teased and Sakura had to struggle to convince herself that the expression on his face was not a pout. Because… just _no_.

“How long… how long have I been here?” she asked suddenly, her eyes widening. “The invasion-! What happened?” and she winced suddenly, her hand coming up to cradle the back of her head. “And why does my head feel like someone hit it with a _sledgehammer_?”

Genma snorted. “Because according to Iwashi, that’s exactly what happened.” He murmured, and the rosette’s eyes widened.

“Iwashi-san!” she exclaimed, “And Tonbu-san! Are they alright? Did anything happen to them?”

“I’d worry about _your own_ wellbeing before I worry about anyone else, Sakura-chan.” Kakashi-sensei replied and Sakura stared at him curiously, wondering why he deflected the question though she nodded in acknowledgement of his words. Almost unconsciously, her eyes flickered to Genma-san who smiled slightly and shook his head.

“Both are right as rain and hope you get better soon. You gave them quite the scare.” He assured her and Sakura smiled, relieved.

“You should be fine to leave in about a day or two.” Tsunade announced. “I want you in my office in a week’s time.” She told her. “And if you prove to be Kakashi’s student in more than just name and turn up late, I’ll have you doing D-Ranks for _months_.”

And so saying, she walked out, Jiraiya following on her heels after sending her a parting wave.

Her eyes flickered from Genma-san to Kakashi-sensei, but before she could say anything the latter disappeared, only the smoke from shunshin clueing her in to the fact that he was ever there to begin with.

Turning confused and more than a little hurt eyes to the tokujo, Sakura fought the tremble in her lower lip. “I… is Kakashi-sensei angry with me?” she asked quietly, her voice much smaller than Genma was used to. He fought the urge to run or cringe and instead sat back down in the chair he’d been before the whole spat with Hatake took place.

“Nah kid, if anything, he’s pissed at _me_.” He assured her though his desire to run only increased when her eyes became glossy.

“But he’s angry with you _because_ of me, isn’t he?” and the brunet cursed the fact that she was still so perceptive even after being completely out of it not ten minutes ago. Genma-san’s silence spoke for itself and Sakura sighed, but swiped angrily at her eyes and resolved to deal with the issue of her sensei as soon as she could. “’m sorry.” She murmured instead, sending Genma-san a guilty look.

The tokujo snorted at her words. “Whatever for? It’s about time for Hatake to pull that stick out of his ass.” He grumbled, before he settled more comfortably – if a ‘comfortable’ position could even be found on the hospital chair – and sighed. “But now that he’s gone, the task of catching you up on the last three weeks has fallen to me, so you better sit quietly and listen ‘cause I got a _lot_ to get through.” The rosette nodded and Genma sighed one last time before he began.

When he was done, Sakura couldn’t believe her ears. The Sandaime… was _dead_? Killed by the same man who was after Sasuke in the Forest? _That_ was the point of the joint alliance against Konoha?

(She realised Genma-san said that Suna was double-crossed by Orochimaru as he’d killed their Kazekage, but it was of little comfort; their supposed _ally_ had still lent a hand in the _murder_ of their Hokage).

More terrifyingly, Naruto and Sasuke had fought a fully-transformed tailed beast? That was something that had Sakura gaping in disbelief – she wasn’t all _too_ savvy of the beasts that were rumoured to have once made up the Ten Tails, but even she knew that a monster was far beyond the skillset of genin. (The fact that they’d _survived_ only served to further cement the notion that Sakura was but a little girl on a team of powerhouses.)

 _Then_ Genma-san told her that two other criminals came to Konoha and one of their techniques managed to send Sasuke _and_ Kakashi-sensei to the hospital for nearly as long as her. “Kakashi shouldn’t have been walking yet, and the Uchiha is still on bedrest.” Genma’d said.

Sakura also found out that she missed the Sandaime’s funeral and the chance to pay her respects to all others who’d perished in the battle that ensued, a fact that made her more than a little annoyed at herself for being so easily taken out and for so long, and she vowed to make a detour to the memorial stone to properly acknowledge the lives that had been lost.

“Oh,” Genma-san added, remembering something. “do you remember that Sunagakure jounin you cut down before I sent you off?” bile rose in Sakura’s throat but she nodded; _how could she forget?_ “He survived.” The tokujo informed her, and something like relief washed over her. “He’ll be crippled and probably forced to retire from active service, but he’ll live.” And there was another wave of something much like vindictive satisfaction that chased a fleeting thought of _serves him right_ before Sakura forcefully banished that train of thought.

“Thank you for telling me.” She murmured, smiling gratefully at the brunet and trying to convey all her gratitude in that single expression. “Is that all?” she asked quietly when Genma-san didn’t reply.

She didn’t expect him to suddenly look ten years older or for his sigh to sound so miserable. “No.” he whispered at last, and when his eyes rose to meet hers, Sakura jumped at the grief in them. “No. Sakura- I’m so sorry-”

Sakura’s stomach plummeted.

Never, in all the weeks they had known each other had Genma-san called her by her name. It was always ‘kid’ or ‘brat’ and she’d clued in to the fact that after a few weeks they became terms of endearment, so she got used to them. To hear her name from the tokujo’s lips was more of a bad omen than a blessing.

“What happened?” she demanded weakly, her voice suddenly dry.

Genma-san’s swiped a hand over his face, closing his eyes for a moment. “There was a summon.” He murmured. “A giant three-headed snake, undoubtedly one of Orochimaru’s. They summoned him outside of the Village gates so nobody would be suspicious, but then… it got into the Village.” Sakura held her breath. “It was too big for just a handful of shinobi to handle, and impossible to be taken down with just one jutsu, regardless how strong. Before we got enough manpower, it- it _decimated_ the civilian district.”

Sakura felt like she’d swallowed ice. _No…_

“Genma-san…” her eyes fell on the lone bouquet by her bedside and only a regulation uniform on one of the stools, none of her usual dresses or casual clothes from home. _No, no, no!_ “Genma-san… my parents…?” she couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought, her throat suddenly tight with tears as she gazed at the tokujo, hoping against hope, entreating him to tell her everything would be alright.

He shook his head, his own eyes strangely damp. “They were at home, they probably hadn’t even realised what was happening-” Genma cut himself off. “Your house was flattened, Sakura.” He waited, letting her come to terms with the implications of those words.

“ _No_ -!” Sakura didn’t even realise that it was her who’d spoken. Her voice was so raw, so heartbroken, so _not hers_ but she didn’t dwell on it. There were tears streaming down her face and sobs racked her frame but she clung to hope. “There’s- there’s a chance they escaped!” she hiccupped. “They could’ve gotten out, you don’t know-!” but she cut herself off at the sorrowful glance Genma-san shot her.

“I went to your house the day after the invasion to tell your parents that you got injured but they shouldn’t worry.” He paused and coughed. “They- they were laid out on the street.” He closed his eyes at the heartbroken sob that escaped the rosette. “The whole neighbourhood was. I… I positively identified the bodies. I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, Sakura was still.

And then she broke down, tears streaming down her face and violent, heartbroken sobs wracking her small frame, a sniffled mantra of _no, no, please, no, oh god, no_ escaping her with every sob. Before he could second-guess himself, Genma stood from his chair and perched beside the girl, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest, letting her cry into his flak jacket while he whispered meaningless comforts into her hair.

They lost track of time, but at some point, Sakura drifted off, exhausted by her crying.

When she woke up, Genma-san was back in his chair, and though the grief was still fresh in her soul, her eyes had shed all their tears. “You said my house was flattened.” She murmured, her voice sounding wet and broken even to her ears. “I… Genma-san, I have nowhere to go after I’m released from here.” She coughed to clear her throat. “I officially became an adult when I graduated so I won’t be welcomed at the orphanage, I have no relatives who live in Konoha nor any money of my own; I have nowhere to stay.”

For the first time since she woke up in the hospital, Genma-san looked at her like he used to; in sarcastic disbelief. “Kid, are you stupid?” and Sakura didn’t even have time to rejoice that the old nickname was back, nor to be indignant at the question. “You just lost your parents – do you really think I’d let you stay anywhere else _but_ with me?”

When Sakura stared at him with wide eyes, he shook his head though a small smile played on his lips. “I have a spare guestroom that you can use, and my apartment’s big enough for two, at least until the rebuilding process is over.”

But then, the rosette grew glum once more. “I can’t possibly impose on you like that, Genma-san.” She protested, her eyes downcast. She was not expecting Genma-san to suddenly snort and thwack her on the back of the head.

“If you so much as _think_ that word again, I’ll have you running a hundred laps around Konoha the second you’re released from here, recuperation period be damned.” He threatened, and Sakura felt a small albeit genuine smile pull on the corners of her lips. Her grief was still fresh and would be for a long time, but she was grateful to the man in front of her, so impossibly, adamantly thankful.

“Okay.” She whispered, her eyes hopeful. “I’d like to live with you.”

* * *

 

When she was released from the hospital the next day, Sakura insisted on going to her old house, just to reconcile what she remembered her house to look like with what she expected to see from Genma-san’s report. The tokujo himself was at her side like an insistent shadow, radiating silent support and understanding and Sakura couldn’t have expressed in words how much she appreciated having him there, despite the fact that she felt guilty for monopolising his time.

What she saw when they got there made a few tears escape her once again. Only the small rosebush in the front yard clued her in to the fact that the pile of rubble before her was her old house. That, and the hint of the kitchen table underneath tonnes of debris and concrete. She stood there for a moment, soaking it in, before she sighed and swiped at her eyes before any sobs could escape. She nodded to Genma-san and they set off towards the cemetery, stopping by the Yamanaka flower shop on the way.

Ino’s mother stood behind the counter and she smiled at Sakura, surprised to see her there. But the smile faded when Sakura explained just what kind of bouquet she would like, much to Genma-san’s confusion: the rosette requested white chrysanthemums, lilies and white roses, with one single, dark crimson rose in the middle. Ino’s mum quietly sorted it and arranged the bouquet so artfully Sakura almost smiled, but the woman shook her head when the pinkette offered her the money to cover the bouquet.

“Sakura-chan… who?” she asked instead.

Sakura should’ve known her peculiar choices would not slip past the woman, particularly not when her daughter was the one who’d taught Sakura the meaning of each individual flower when they were children. Swallowing the lump that suddenly formed in her throat, she murmured, “My parents, Yamanaka-san.” Before she realised, Sakura found herself with a face-full of the blonde’s bosom as she pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Sakura-chan.” She whispered into her hair. “You know you’re always welcome at our house if you need it.”

“Thank you, Yamanaka-san.” Sakura whispered back, infinitely grateful.

She grabbed the bouquet and left the shop, thanking Genma-san for waiting for her as they walked towards the cemetery. The tokujo shrugged. “No problem. You know her?”

It was Sakura’s turn to shrug. “I was best friends with her daughter when we were younger.” She divulged, feeling a tad melancholy.

“’Was’?” Genma-san echoed, raising an eyebrow.

Sakura stared ahead as she reminisced, glad for the distraction. “Ino – that’s her daughter – was ‘in love’ with one of the boys in our class, Sasuke, actually. A lot of the girls were, though, I guess it was more of a trend than any actual ‘love’. The Uchiha genes are pretty.” She shrugged and grinned slightly at Genma-san’s disbelieving look. “She was always really popular, top kunoichi and all that. I… she was everything to me, my first and best friend, but we somehow let the rivalry over Sasuke get between our friendship.”

“You going to try and fix that?” Genma-san asked when she finished.

“Probably.” Sakura agreed. “Just not now. Now, I want to grieve.” She murmured as the cemetery finally came into view. There were a lot of new graves, even she could tell that, but her eyes flickered from one to the other until they settled on two painfully familiar names right next to each other on the very edge of the graveyard:

_Haruno Mebuki_

_Haruno Kizashi_

Sakura fell to her knees in front of the gravestones and a dry sob escaped her. She placed the flowers between the graves and let her head drop as she prayed. She wasn’t unconscious for long enough to miss the _shijūkunichi_ but the chance to grieve in peace was welcome. When she was done, she lifted her head and looked around.

“Do you want me to go?” Genma-san asked quietly, turning to leave, but Sakura shook her head.

“If you don’t mind, I’d actually prefer it if you stayed.” She whispered; his presence was comforting, despite the silence that fell around them. So stay he did, and they knelt beside one another, eyes on the two graves till the sun disappeared behind the horizon and Sakura shivered in the cold.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Genma-san broke the silence, and obediently, Sakura stood, shaking the stiffness from her muscles. “Tsunade-sama will kill me if you get a cold on the same day you were released.”

Sakura didn’t laugh, but there was a genuine smile on her face, and when Genma-san bent down and plucked a single daffodil from the ground and presented it to her, it only grew, the significance of the gesture not missed.

What she lost would never be returned nor replaced, but she also gained something in that moment, something that she had a feeling would last for many years to come.

* * *

 

Living with Genma-san was…odd.

He was not like her parents, slightly detached and a little reclusive – what the brunet loved, he loved freely and what he hated he made clear. His apartment was neat, surprising Sakura, but it had a homey feel to it that the rosette’s house, even with the grandiose decorations handpicked by her mother somehow lacked.

She moved all of her things which had been possible to recover from the wreckage that was her house into the guestroom and used her parents’ collective pensions and savings which had been transferred to her account to go shopping and fill up her closet again. She also made a stop by the weapons shop and made a point to not only refill her pouch but also to purchase all the types of weapons Izumo and Kotetsu had worked on with her in the two weeks before the exams. The shopkeeper stared at her items with wide eyes but Sakura had a good dozen times over the sum that all of them had cost her in her wallet _alone_ so she didn’t feel too guilty. She must’ve looked absolutely bizarre walking with all those weapons back to the apartment and needed Genma-san’s help with the door. The tokujo took one look at her and snorted then mumbled something like ‘I’m not even gonna ask’ before he went back to filling in his sudoku.

That was another thing about living with the jounin – he was startlingly, weirdly _human_ behind closed doors. Sakura knew it shouldn’t have thrown her off as much as it had but she still retained the idea that all of the higher ranking shinobi were the same indoors as they were on missions. Which she soon realised was absurd. The experience of living with a jounin served to _humanise_ the elite more than anything.

She now knew Genma-san liked puzzles, sudoku and shogi and he was renowned amongst his friends not only for his ‘nonexistent’ love life despite being a huge flirt but also for his tendency of cracking really bad jokes at really inopportune moments.

The first time Sakura experienced the latter, she snorted into her tea and had a laughing attack, spilling her tea everywhere and cracking the cup for which she then apologised profusely, but Genma-san merely grinned at her as he threw the shards away, dismissing her concerns with ‘that’s the most enthusiastic response I’ve had in _years’._

(Sakura ended up destroying another teacup the first time she saw Genma-san after he just woke up, heading in a zombie-like state towards the coffee pot and hitting his hip on the corner of the countertop. The best thing was that he then proceeded to glare at the countertop like it had personally wronged him before he moved towards the coffeepot, grumbling under his breath about how _inanimate objects were out to get him._ The next day Sakura found the corner protectors people often bought when they had children in the house stuck on that same corner and she had to use the countertop to prop herself up when her laughter made her knees weak.)

Five days after she was released from the hospital, the rosette finally found the time to meet with Izumo and Kotetsu. Surprisingly, Genma-san decided to tag along, and Sakura was curious how that would change the dynamic.

Turns out, it didn’t change in the slightest.

The two chunin greeted her with hugs, but then they fell into their old rhythm when Sakura playfully swiped at Kotetsu’s side and he dodged then pounced on her. The friendly teasing turned into a three-way spar while Genma-san merely watched and provided snide commentary, but after about half an hour had passed, Sakura got an idea.

“Genma-san!” she called, narrowly dodging Izumo’s swipe at her shoulder with his knife. “Join us!” she signaled for the duo to stop for a second as a grin played on her lips. “I propose a bet.” She announced when the tokujo reached them.

“Oh?” Kotetsu grinned, curious. “Do tell.”

“Genma-san and I versus you and Izumo-san. Hand-to-hand and bukijutsu only, and whichever pair gets ten hits on the other wins and gets treated to lunch.”

Izumo laughed. “I _really_ see why you like her, Genma.” He teased, nudging the brunet.

Genma just smirked, but turned to Sakura and raised an eyebrow. “You _know_ I’m not particularly skilled in bukijutsu.” He accused, but there was mirth in his eyes.

Sakura snorted. “You outrank us all.” She pointed out. “Besides, I thought the prospect of free food would be motivation enough.”

Kotetsu laughed. “You seem confident.” He observed, but Sakura shrugged.

“I just want to win.”

* * *

 

She did win.

Her and Genma-san managed to win by the meager margin of one, the final score being 10-9, but they won nonetheless. They quickly figured out that the best way to approach the Terrible Twins, as Genma-san called them was to split them up. Since they mostly operated as a duo, they would be less used to fighting individually. Still, Sakura was a genin, and both Izumo and Kotetsu had a good ten years of experience on her. She ended up taking 7 out of the 9 hits against her and Genma-san, but compensated for it by landing 4 out of their ten on Kotetsu when he was distracted by the tokujo.

But free lunch overrode her sense of fairness, so Sakura ignored the chunin’s grumpy whining and led the way to Yakiniku Q, smiling all the while.

Her grief was fresh, but Genma-san had convinced her that it would not do to dwell on it and forget to live, and she took his words to heart. She could smile and try to enjoy life when outside and keep her grieving to when she was indoors at night. It was a compromise she was willing to make.

And then, her week since she was dismissed from the hospital was up and Sakura showed up at the Hokage Tower, surprised to find Shikamaru there.

“Sakura?” he asked, confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” The rosette muttered. “I was in the hospital last week and Tsunade-sama told me to come here today, so here I am.”

Shikamaru nodded. “She told me the same thing.” Both teens frowned, thinking.

“What do you reckon she wants?” Sakura asked, curious. Her and Shikamaru had never worked together before, and being genin, they wouldn’t be allowed to leave the Village on a mission without someone of higher rank. So _why_ …?

“I’ve got my suspicions, but for once I’d prefer to be proven wrong.” The Nara sighed at her questioning gaze and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It will just be too troublesome if I’m right.” Was his response.

But before Sakura could ask _why_ _exactly_ he thought they were summoned, the door to Tsunade’s office opened and she called them in. Sakura was surprised to note that both Kakashi-sensei and Shikamaru’s sensei were already waiting for them in the office.

“Asuma-sensei?” the Nara murmured, confused before a grimace twisted his features. “Nooo… what a _drag_.” And somehow, the tame words managed to sound like a curse.

“Enough with that attitude, brat.” Tsunade commanded. “If you’ve already figured out why you’re here then you should be grateful.”

Sakura frowned, not liking the fact that she didn’t know what was going on. “Tsunade-sama,” she called before Shikamaru could protest any further. “with all due respect, why _are we_ here?”

Wordlessly, Tsunade pointed to two green vests stacked on the edge of her desk. When Sakura’s eyes widened as she realised what they were, she explained. “I’ve finally had enough time to look over the reports of the Chunin Exams. Not only the battles themselves but what happened after as well. And I’ve come to the conclusion that out of your age group, the two of you are the only ones who are suitable for the promotion. Don’t look at me like that.” She snapped when Shikamaru raised his eyebrows and Sakura stared at her in disbelief. “If it was up to me, I’d have given all of you rookies at least another year in the field for experience. You’re still wet-behind-the-ears genin, not even a year out of the Academy, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” She paused to collect herself then continued. “The truth is that Konoha suffered great losses during the Invasion. We cannot dawdle and baby you, because if any Village wants to exploit our recent vulnerability, not trying to restock our ranks will give them the perfect opportunity to do so.”

Sakura’s heart hammered in her chest as Tsunade’s words sunk in. _Her_ … a _chunin_?

“I… Tsunade-sama?” she cut in, her curiosity getting the better of her. “If the need for more shinobi in the upper ranks is so great, why not promote more of the rookies? Why only the two of us?” she asked.

The Godaime regarded her with a mixture of amusement and steel in her gaze. “Because, contrary to popular belief, I do not believe that sending my shinobi out into the field should be the equivalent of sending pigs to slaughter.” Even Shikamaru blanched at her words, and Sakura stifled a shiver. “I’ve read the reports on everybody’s performances, but I’ve only had people come and recommend _you two_. You mostly, actually.” She pointed at Sakura, and the rosette paled. What? But… _who_? Tsunade answered her question. “It seemed some of the chunin you broke out of that genjutsu were unwilling to let you remain in the ranks as genin. That, and a couple actually said you handled yourself decently when forced into open combat.”

Sakura could feel Kakashi-sensei’s gaze boring into the back of her head but she kept her eyes resolutely forward. “I… see.” She said at last.

Tsunate sighed. “In the simplest terms: Shikamaru, you demonstrated strategic planning, clear thinking and tactics that were at least chunin-level, an awareness of your surroundings and how to use them to your advantage, as well as awareness of your own shortcomings. Despite forfeiting your match and having the _worst_ Academy scores right after that blond brat, some said your intelligence is unparalleled amongst your peers, and after reading the reports, I find that I agree with that assessment.” Then, the sharp hazel eyes turned to Sakura and the rosette froze. “And you. _Your_ Academy reports say painfully average in everything but booksmarts where you excelled, but you were abysmal in taijutsu. Yet the reviews and reports from your fights state anything but: you had the shortest preliminary match in at least a _decade_ , then managed to display bukijutsu, Earth Release and some form of genjutsu during your match. That is a too wide range of skills for you to have been able to hide them during the Academy, which leads me to the conclusion that they’re recently acquired talents. In contrast to the Nara, _you_ won your battle, then sought out a superior when the Invasion began and used your talents to give Konoha more of a fighting chance. That demonstrates most of the qualities of a chunin. So!” she clapped her hands, startling Sakura and she noticed Shikamaru scowl. “Congratulations! Nara Shikamaru and Haruno Sakura, you are now officially chunin of Konohagakure!”

Shizune, the Hokage’s assistant, handed Sakura her flak jacket with a smile, but the rosette stared at it with unseeing eyes.

She was the first to get promoted out of Team 7. _Her_. The weakling amongst powerhouses. A _chunin_.

Sakura turned to look at Kakashi-sensei and noted that his eye was marginally wider than she was used to as he gazed at her. _Ah,_ she thought wryly, _he wasn’t there for my match. All that was probably news to him._

“I suggest you two get acquainted.” Tsunade called as the newly-made chunin turned to leave. “You’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on! Oh, and Sakura? The Uchiha is officially allowed visitors.” She called after the rosette.

Only after the doors closed behind them did Sakura finally release the breath she’d been holding and gasped for air. Once she was done, she turned to Shikamaru. “I don’t know how much truth was in what she said, but… would you like to come to dinner? Not right now!” she clarified when he frowned, then hastened to explain. “At about… seven, maybe?”

Shikamaru seemed to consider her for a moment before he sighed. “Sure.” He agreed, and Sakura did a double-take. “Might as well get to know each other.”

“Really?” she blurted, not quite able to stop herself. “Sorry, I mean- here, give me your hand and I’ll write down my address.” Snagging a pen from one of the desks people were meant to fill out their forms on, Sakura scribbled down Genma-san’s address on the back of Shikamaru’s hand. When she was done, she straightened, then waggled her fingers awkwardly in a mockery of a wave. “I guess I’ll see you later?” she mumbled, then cursed herself for making it sound like a question but the Nara merely nodded, a slight smirk on his face as he turned to leave.

“Ah, Shikamaru!” Sakura called out again when she remembered something. When he paused and turned to face her, she asked sheepishly, “What’s your favorite food?”

At that, the brunet snorted and rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I’m on a team with Chouji, Sakura; I’ll eat anything.” But when he noted her bemused stare, he sighed and added, “But if you had, say, mackerel, that’d be cool.”

“Kay! See you at seven!”

From there, Sakura watched the Nara go before she turned on her heel and started her trek to the hospital to visit Sasuke. She felt like years had passed since she’d last properly interacted with her teammates – if she remembered correctly, last time they really acted like a team had been on that last day before the preliminaries and that, for Sakura, felt like a lifetime ago. She was a different person from the girl she’d been then: she’d killed people and saved people and lost people in the meantime, and she wondered how that would affect her relationship with her teammates.

Once at the hospital, she politely inquired where Sasuke was being kept, but once she got to the room she found it empty, only the window clued her in to where her teammate – who was still supposed to be on bedrest – may have gone.

 _The roof. Really?_ She grouched inwardly. _What is it with men and their hatred for_ staying put _?!_

Sakura leaped out of the window and with chakra in her feet ran up the side of the wall, vaulting over the last part to land on the roof. What she saw made her heart stop for a second before it restarted in overtime as she thought what to do:

Both her teammates were charging at each other with such intense looks of hatred on their faces, particularly on Sasuke’s, that Sakura nearly flinched. The chakra in their respective hands took the form of techniques the rosette had only ever heard of in Genma-san’s stories: if she was right, Naruto was brandishing a Rasengan while Sasuke wielded Chidori. She remembered Genma-san saying that they were both lethal techniques, yet her boys showed no signs of stopping.

The rosette steeled herself – there was only one thing she could think to do, only one thing which would stop the teens in their tracks long enough for their respective jutsu to dispel. It was something Genma-san told her about, something reserved purely for higher ranked shinobi, but what Sakura needed it for was its shock-factor. She remembered who she thought of the first time she’d been asked to do it and used that same face now; in her mind’s eye, Naruto and Sasuke were no longer themselves, but Orochimaru, and Sakura felt her hatred for the man grow.

_His fault Konoha is destroyed, his fault Sasuke has that mark, his fault the Sandaime is dead, his fault my parents are gone, his fault, his fault hisfault-!_

She heard their gasps before she even realised what she’d done.

Naruto and Sasuke stood, paralysed and shaking, Rasengan and Chidori flickering out of existence until they were no more as both boys were overcome with a vision of their own death.

As Sakura folded her fingers to dispel the technique, she felt a swoosh of air beside her and turned her head to see Kakashi-sensei, but he didn’t meet her gaze. His face was blank, his only eye narrowed as he surveyed the frozen boys and Sakura hastened to break them out of the illusion, a wave of guilt overcoming her.

Slowly, very slowly, the boys’ heads swiveled to face and the guilty feeling in Sakura’s stomach only grew.

“Sakura… chan?” Naruto asked, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming.

But Sasuke’s reaction was different. Sasuke was _angry._

“ _What did you do_?!” he hissed, his voice demanding and furious and his eyes bored into her accusingly.

The Sakura from the Forest of Death would have withered under that gaze and began apologizing profusely, but the Sakura that faced Sasuke’s glare just then was a different person. People changed after they lost somebody; they grew up. And just then, the rosette found herself thinking the behaviour of her teammates as nothing more than _childish_.

So she faced the Uchiha and squared her shoulders, her chin out and her chunin vest clearly displayed as she spoke.

“I stopped you from killing each other.” She announced, annoyed when her voice shook slightly. “I know _why_ Kakashi-sensei taught you that move, Sasuke and I’m glad it helped against Gaara, but that doesn’t justify using it on a _teammate_.” She told him, resolutely not looking to the jounin to confirm her words. Sasuke snorted derisively but Sakura already shifted her attention to the still-stupefied blond. “And Naruto, I don’t know who taught you the Yondaime’s technique,” she felt more than saw Kakashi-sensei stiffen at her words, “but I doubt they’d have appreciated you using it, a _lethal force,_ on Sasuke.”

“Maa, Sakura-chan, I thought I was meant to be the sensei of this team.” Kakashi-sensei commented idly when she finished, speaking for the first time since he got to the roof.

“I-I’m sorry!” Sakura stuttered, suddenly embarrassed by her display. She hung her head to hide her blush and the tears that threatened to escape. _How can I be affected so much by so few words?_ She despaired inwardly.

“But Sakura’s not wrong.” The jounin announced suddenly, sharply. “Sasuke, we’re going to have a chat about using that jutsu on anybody but an enemy, not to mention you’re still supposed to be on bedrest. And Naruto, I’m sure Jiraiya would _love_ to know what you nearly used the technique he taught you to do.”

Naruto had the grace to look bashful but Sasuke looked enraged. “I am not a _child_ , sensei.” The word was said angrily, like an insult. “You cannot tell me what to– what are you _wearing?!_ ” and suddenly, Sakura had three pairs of eyes on her, Naruto curious, Sasuke furious, and Kakashi-sensei infuriatingly unreadable. The rosette glanced down self-consciously, checking; she had her standard blue pants on and green turtleneck under her–

_Oh._

“My chunin vest.” She replied somewhat shyly, cautiously raising her gaze to meet her teammate’s shell-shocked stares.

“You got promoted!” Naruto cheered, though his grin didn’t quite reach his eyes, at the same time as Sasuke demanded incredulously; “ _You_ got promoted? _You?_ ”

“Oi, Sasuke-teme, don’t be an asshole, you didn’t see Sakura-chan’s battle-!” the blond jumped in to defend her, but Sasuke had already turned to Kakashi-sensei and he was seething.

“You told me I didn’t show all the requirements for chunin!” he accused. “You told me I was ‘ _lacking’_ what it takes to be promoted! But then how is _she_ -” he spat, pointing at Sakura angrily and the rosette froze at the hatred in his gaze. “a _chunin_?! _She_ didn’t fight Gaara, _she_ didn’t have to battle a fully-transformed jinchuuriki, she probably stayed there and hid until all the fighting was over ‘cause she’s weak and unreliable and _annoying-!_ ”

_Thump._

The spine of Kakashi-sensei’s book impacted against Sasuke’s head, cutting off his rant. “That’s enough of that.” The jounin chastised mildly but there was a steel undertone in his voice. “Apologise to Sakura-chan, Sasuke.”

But Sakura cut him off. “No, sensei.” She murmured, her voice empty, far away, and she shook her head so her bangs covered her eyes, hiding her no doubt broken expression from view. _Weak. Unreliable. Annoying. Unreliable. **Unreliable.**_ The last word from the Uchiha’s rant was what caused her the most pain. Hadn’t all those months training with Genma-san and even the weeks of research before that been so she could become a teammate they could trust? Someone they could depend on? What did it say of her if the very same teammates she sought to become strong enough to protect thought her _unreliable?_ Was she just _destined_ to be weak? But then, she glanced down at her new vest and she got her answer: if she truly were weak, she would not have gotten the promotion. And it was with Genma-san’s words floating through her head, as well as Izumo’s and Kotetsu’s compliments and even Tsunade’s calm assessment of her accomplishments that Sakura raised her chin to stare at her sensei. A few tears fell from her eyes but her voice, when she spoke, was strong. “No, sensei.” She repeated. “It’s good to know where I stand in this team.” And with those words, she vaulted over the edge of the roof and _ran_.

* * *

 

Sakura burst through the door of her and Genma-san’s shared apartment and slammed it shut, sliding down with her back against the doorframe till she could curl up into a ball as sobs shook her frame.

“Kid?” she heard the tokujo call from the kitchen, but she was too weak and breathless to answer. “Kid, you alright?” soft footsteps grew nearer until a gentle hand fell on her shaking shoulder. “Okaaay, you need to get up.” Genma-san murmured but when Sakura still made no move to get out of the position she sank into, he sighed and settled beside her instead. “Fair enough. Is there anyone who needs to ‘ _accidentally_ ’ end up in the hospital?” he asked and Sakura actually snorted through her tears and shook her head. Then, reconsidered and shrugged as she remembered Sasuke’s harsh, cutting words.

She could _sense_ Genma-san’s raised eyebrow. “That’s not the decisive ‘no!’ I was expecting which leads me to think it was quite serious. So, spill.” And somehow, as she burrowed her face into the surprised tokujo’s shoulder and shifted closer to his warmth, the rosette found herself obeying, detailing everything that happened after she left Tsunade’s office to the moment she got back home. Genma-san listened, scowling occasionally and stiffening as she told him some of Sasuke’s choice words.

“So, to summarise,” the brunet murmured, his voice cold even as his thumb rubbed comforting circles into the bone of Sakura’s shoulder. “bratty Uchiha’s panties were in a twist because you got promoted? That’s not something you should concern yourself with, he’ll get over himself if he knows what’s good for him. And congratulations for the promotion by the way, told you that you could do it so I believe you owe me dinner.” And Sakura actually laughed, wet and with some tears still clinging stubbornly to her lashes but happy nonetheless.

“Oh, and I also invited Shikamaru for dinner.” She announced, only just remembering as she lifted her head to gaze up at Genma-san’s face. “Would you like to accompany me to the market? I have to find mackerel somewhere.”

The tokujo sent her a long-suffering look. “I don’t actually have a choice, do I?” and Sakura laughed as she wiped her face with the edge of her sleeve and stood, stretching out a hand to the brunet to heft him up as well.

“Nope!” she called, suddenly cheerful as she disappeared to get her money and promptly grabbed Genma-san by the sleeve and dragged him out. “Let’s go!”

* * *

 

When Shikamaru dutifully made his way to the address still scribbled on his hand, he did not expect to end up in the shinobi district. As far as he was concerned, Sakura was the only one of the Rookie 9 from a civilian family, not that he’d had too many dealings with the girl before they were saddled together as chunin and told to get acquainted. She was always too… _loud_. Her hair and voice were always loud and though Shikamaru could sometimes appreciate that there was a brain hidden behind the fangirl, as she would not have been the top kunoichi academically otherwise, he always struggled to see past her fangirl side. But the rosette he met by the Hokage’s office, or even earlier during the last stage of the Chunin Exams, she was different. He couldn’t quite pinpoint how or what exactly made her different, but the sheer fact that she won against a girl who should’ve and _would’ve_ easily flattened the Sakura just after graduation made the Nara understandably suspicious.

Still, he didn’t expect for the door to be opened by a man he distinctly remembered was the proctor for the third stage of the Exams. Shikamaru was ready to apologise and say he must’ve gotten the wrong address when the man stepped aside to let him in and called into the house, “He’s here!”

Not a second later, Sakura came bounding out of what he assumed was the kitchen, a navy apron tied around a pale yellow kimono top and beige cargo pants. “Ah, Shikamaru!” she greeted cheerfully. “You’re early!”

Shikamaru stared up at the clock he could see on the far wall. “I’m two minutes late.” He stated flatly staring at the girl in disbelief as she waved him off.

“I got used to Kakashi-sensei’s perception of time, by whose standards you’re way early! Come in, come in!” she ushered him in and pointed to the sofa. “Make yourself comfortable, I’m just finishing dinner.” Then, a sly grin appeared on her face. “Genma-san can entertain you, I’m sure.”

The jounin sighed in what Shikamaru identified as sardonic long-suffering. “Kid, I was actually hoping to go to the bar and do grown-up stuff rather than play dress up.” He complained though there was an amused glint in his eyes.

The Nara was expecting Sakura to snap but she surprised him by sniping back sarcastically; “By ‘grown-up stuff’ you mean getting shitfaced drunk or flirting your way through the female civilian population?” she snarked though there was a grin on her face as she stirred the food.

The brunet frowned in mock-anger and narrowed his eyes. “That’s it, you’re banned from Kotetsu. He’s a bad influence.”

Sakura finally turned away from the stove and levelled the jounin with an unimpressed look though the corner of her mouth was inching upwards. “Need I remind you that you’re not actually my mother, _kaa-san_?” she teased, surprising Shikamaru.

“Brat.” The jounin scowled before he stepped forward and ruffled her hair. “I’ll be back soon.” He threw over his shoulder as he made his way to the door.

“Mhmm,” Sakura acknowledged idly. “I’ll leave the dinner in the fridge.” She called, earning herself a cheery ‘thanks!’ before the door opened and shut as the jounin left.

“Sorry for that,” the rosette murmured as she turned to him with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry.” Shikamaru waved her off. “Though… I thought your parents were civilian?” he asked, the words turning out more like a question than a statement.

“They were.” Sakura replied as she set the dishes on the low table. Luckily, she seemed to read the curiosity on his face at her non-answer and explained. “They were killed during the Invasion. My house was flattened, so I’m staying with Genma-san till it’s rebuilt.”

 _Shit,_ Shikamaru cursed himself, the pleasant, teasing atmosphere from a moment ago gone. “I-I’m sorry.” He apologised awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the rosette.

But instead of crying or bursting out, Sakura waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, it wasn’t your fault. And I didn’t ask you to come here so I can _cry_ on you, Shikamaru.” She smiled lopsidedly and Shikamaru was suddenly reminded of the brunet that left them not a few minutes ago and realised how little he actually knew _this_ Sakura. So he allowed the corner of his lips to quirk up and nodded then dug into the food.

Dinner was delicious, though Shikamaru still made a comment of ‘I’m not some royalty, Sakura, you didn’t have to do this’ at which the rosette shot him a bemused look and promptly ordered him to shut up and eat. She’d made broiled mackerel – and Shikamaru ignored the weird warmth in his chest that she’d listened to what his favourite food was – along with rice, dangojiru, vegetable tempura, tsukemono and inari-zushi and the Nara wondered why she bothered to do so much for him. But he kept his silence on that subject and the conversation strayed to more lighthearted things like favourite desserts, books, past missions, ambitions and the like till the food was long gone and Shikamaru realised that somewhere during that time he’d swapped to sitting cross-legged with his elbows resting on the table and fingers steepled under his chin while the rosette mirrored him but rested her cheek on her palm, an indulgent smile on her face.

The atmosphere was… surprisingly not awkward, and Shikamaru somehow didn’t find himself growing neither bored nor annoyed with the conversation. Perturbed by his own behaviour, he cast his eyes around the room till they fell on a very familiar box.

“You play shogi?” he asked, his tone slightly disbelieving. Sakura shrugged in response, the movement loose, relaxed even as her eyes followed his gaze.

“That’s actually Genma-san’s ‘cause he’s an old man at heart, but I know my way around a shogi board, why?” she replied, her eyes glinting with amusement.

Shikamaru could only blame how sluggish and comfortable the food had made him for what tumbled out of his mouth next. “Play with me.” He ordered.

Sakura shot him a surprised look but shrugged again and rose to clean up the table while gesturing Shikamaru to set up the board which he did.

(he refused to acknowledge that he was curious. That’d be too troublesome.)

When Genma got back, it was to a silent house. Curious, he peeked his head into the lounge and found the two sat over a shogi board, a plate of daifuku between them, and if it weren’t for the rosette’s subtle glance up when he appeared he’d have thought they were too into the game to notice him.

He decided he was justified to groan. “I leave the house so you two can do _teenager things_ and be stupid without judgement, not so you can play old man games.” He despaired, getting a snort from the brat and barely a shrug from the Nara before they turned their attention back to the game. Now Genma was _really_ curious.

He walked up to the table and peered at the board. At first glance, the Nara appeared to be winning, his Mino defense basic but holding strong while he concentrated on getting through the rosette’s comparatively more thorough defense, though she was kept busy with keeping out his promoted lance and pawn.

_At first glance._

Genma snorted and nudged Shikamaru in the shoulder, levelling Sakura with an amused stare. “Kid, you might wanna watch out for her _tsugifu_ or you’ll suddenly find yourself a king short.”

He did not expect for the rosette to let out a long-suffering groan and glare at him while the Nara stiffened and stared at the board intensely before comprehension dawned in his eyes.

“Genma-san you _ass_ , it’s taken me _five games_ to set him up for that one and you just ruined it!” she whined, sounding on the verge of tears though her eyes glittered with barely concealed amusement. So she _had_ realised that the Nara hadn’t noticed her tactic. He wondered just how much she’d dumbed herself down and simplified her game in the previous matches in order to be able to slip that one past him.

It didn’t matter in the end because the Nara won in less than nine moves from then on and Sakura accepted the defeat graciously, but Genma reasoned that sometimes, getting somebody like _Shikamaru_ who came from a family renowned for their strategic thinking and sharp intelligence to take her seriously in a _strategy game_ was victory enough. The thought seemed to be shared by the rosette as the pleased grin didn’t fade from her face even after the Nara left, thanking her for the dinner and the game and leaving her with a calm assessment that she was ‘not as troublesome as he’d believed’ for which he’d earned himself a laugh and a surprisingly fond smile.

But her happiness was not to last.

Team 7 had been ordered to meet up and train as usual despite the fact that one of its members was chunin and their squad leader was away on a mission. But the rosette came back after less than three hours, tears in her eyes, and wordlessly dragged Genma out of the house and to the training grounds that had become _theirs_ over the length of their acquaintance.

When she attacked him, there was none of the usual grace in her movements. She was angry and vicious and uncontrolled and overreaching, but even when he repeatedly knocked her down, she kept jumping back up, spurred by her frustration and anger from a situation she still wouldn’t talk about but Genma had no doubt had something to do with the Uchiha’s resentment towards her advancement and therefore her by extension. And about an hour into her getting repeatedly smashed into the dirt, she calmed down. Tired and sweaty and covered in grime, but some of the light was back in her eyes. She thanked him profusely then dragged him back to his apartment, disappeared to take a shower then presented him with pumpkin broth for dinner which earned her a lazy grin and a hair ruffle.

But Genma wasn’t stupid.

He wasn’t fooled by the easy smile and teasing words and the firm reassurances in everything but words that the rosette was okay. She was far from okay and the deaths of her parents left far greater emotional wounds on her than she’d like to have people believe. And the only reason Genma himself knew was because he heard the heart-wrenching sobs, the agonised cries and desperate, sorrowful pleas of _come back, come back please this isn’t fair come back-!_ that came from the rosette’s room every night. It seemed that was the only time when she’d allow herself to truly grieve, but Genma couldn’t help but worry; it was unhealthy, bottling everything in during the day, pretending everything was fine and then spending hours each night crying herself to sleep. He knew better than to call her out on it though.

But a week after the impromptu spar, the muffled cries he’d gotten used to were gone. It was almost worryingly silent, and Genma finally gave up pretending to sleep and padded down the stairs just to check, to get rid of that niggling feeling of _not right._ Yet when he entered the lounge, he found the rosette on the sofa, curled around one of the thicker books from his bookshelf, a small lamp providing the little light she needed to read by. He glanced at the clock on the wall, _3:07am_ stared back at him and he blinked once to get his thoughts in order then asked, going for blasé;

“Can’t sleep?”

Sakura shot him a fond look, used as she was to him to note the undertone of real concern in his voice. She patted the spot next to her and he obligingly settled down, glancing over her shoulder at the title. “’ _A History of the Great Five Shinobi Nations: Revised’_?” he quoted, his tone incredulous. “Really, kid?”

The rosette shrugged. “It’s quite nice for a bit of light reading, though the author was clearly originally from either Iwa or Kumogakure since he spent a good five pages _raving_ about how nice it was to see green and water in Kirigakure, and I haven’t even gotten to the section about _Konoha._ ” She told him with mirth shining in her eyes, but Genma sensed something beneath that and clung on.

“Mhmm, fascinating.” He acknowledged indulgently, then poked her side. “How about you tell me the real reason you’re engaging in this ‘light reading’ of yours in the first place?” he asked and counted it a win when she stiffened.

“Can’t hide much from you, can I?” Sakura asked, though it was more resigned than irritated as she sighed. When Genma’s answer was a cheerful ‘nope!’ she shut her book and turned to face him. “I- originally, I wanted to get stronger so my teammates could trust me, could rely on me, as you well know.” Genma nodded. He’d heard that a couple of times now, but he opted not to interrupt. He didn’t know when she’d next choose to open up to him, so he’d take what she was willing to reveal patiently. “But, as you also probably know, getting stronger didn’t lead them to trust me, but to resent me. And… at first, I felt at fault. For upsetting the careful balance of power we had going on, or something equally- nevermind. In any case, I felt at fault. But… now I’m thinking… wondering, really, if I wasn’t a bit too eager to accept all the blame. I worked _hard_ for that promotion, you know?” she explained, growing louder and more upset by the end. Genma just nodded because he _did_ know, probably better than anyone else. “And at first, I felt guilty for thinking that, but now… I’m not, y’know? The only thing that’s bugging me is that I will not waste my nindo on people who shun me for trying to help them. But… now I’m stuck. Because wanting to get stronger for the benefit of somebody apart from myself actually _worked_ ; I got off my ass and started training seriously and I got better. But now I don’t know where to get that motivation from.” And at last, she met his gaze, hers far more resigned than it had any right to be.

Genma nodded thoughtfully. “The moment you graduate the Academy, you’re told that your allegiance should lie first and foremost with the Village, with your Kage, before it lies with any clan head or family member. For me, my motivation to get better stems from my desire to protect Konohagakure.” He admitted slowly, counting it a success when the rosette’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“The Village?” she questioned doubtfully and Genma nodded.

“Yeah, but don’t think of it as just buildings and overcrowded streets. Think of the people, those close to you as well as all the strangers, all those without a voice of their own or too weak to protect themselves. When I used to go on really difficult, life-threatening missions for the Sandaime, that’s what helped me fight and kill and struggle and yet still come crawling back every time. It’s… just a thought.” He added when Sakura’s eyes glistened wetly.

“I… I think I like that.” She admitted at last, her voice quiet but soft, pleased. “I… thank you, Genma-san.”

Genma shrugged. “No problem. Was there anything else keeping you up or did I get everything?” he checked and got a wry smile in response. “Ah.”

Sakura laughed. “It’s nothing that serious. I just… I think I’m going to request a mission.” She confessed, fingering the corner of the page. “Something outside of the Land of Fire, preferably quite long. I just need to get away from them for a bit, you know?” Genma _didn’t_ know, but he had a hunch of who ‘they’ were, and he _understood._

“Sure.” He shrugged. “The Godaime shouldn’t have a problem with that as long as you provide a more extensive explanation than ‘my teammates are jealous assholes and I want out’.” He teased, earning a snort from the rosette before she rested her head on his shoulder and lightly patted his thigh.

“Thanks, Genma-san.” She muttered at last and then her breathing evened out and Genma suddenly found himself with an armful of sleeping chunin. _Ah, shit._

* * *

 

The next morning, Sakura appeared at the Hokage’s office, dressed in her usual outfit complete with her new flak jacket and politely presented her request.

Tsunade regarded her with a curious gaze. “Why the sudden urge to spread your wings?” she asked, at which Sakura sighed.

“I would like to do something different, Tsunade-sama. It’s… rewarding, working in the Village and the community I’m so familiar with, but I’d like to travel, to maybe see the other Villages too, how the societies differ. It’s… an odd request, I’m aware, and I’ll perfectly understand if you say I’m out of my depth even asking, but… I just wanted to try.” She explained, forcing herself not to slump her shoulders.

Surprisingly, a smirk appeared on the Hokage’s face. “That attitude of yours will need some work, kid.” She told Sakura frankly, startling the rosette. “I’d been thinking of sending you and the Nara on some mission together to test my newest chunin and this is as good an occasion as any. If you go fetch Shikamaru now I’ll only have to brief you once.”

Sakura blinked owlishly then stared at the woman for the few seconds, uncomprehending before a hesitant smile bloomed on her face. “I- thank you, Tsunade-sama!” and then she was off, barreling towards the Nara compound with a grin.

She dragged a curious, complaining Shikamaru back to the Hokage’s office, the only explanation she had ready to offer was ‘we have a mission’. Nonetheless, when the Godaime finally grinned at them and announced their mission even Sakura’s enthusiasm faded away to be replaced by disbelief.

“Beg your pardon, Hokage-sama?” she asked, stunned, trading equally stupefied looks with Shikamaru.

“I got you your ‘long-term mission’ brat, you should be grateful.” Tsunade announced, gleeful in the face of their shock. “A diplomatic mission to present a potential peace treaty to the new Mizukage and hopefully persuade her to agree to it.”

Shikamaru looked slightly pale. “Tsunade-sama, this could have serious consequences for Konoha’s foreign policy if we were to fail.” He pointed out carefully and Sakura nodded vigorously in support of his words.

“Well then,” the blonde sent them a dangerous smile. “you better make sure you don’t fail, ne?” then her smile morphed into a grin, “Besides, out of your whole lot, the two of you are the best suited for this sort of thing. And I have complete – well, almost complete – faith that you _won’t_ fail.” And then she tossed them a scroll. “Here are the rough outlines of the terms of the treaty. Depending what the Mizukage’s reaction to them will be, this mission may take anywhere between, oh I don’t know, two weeks, if she immediately tells you to leave, or a couple of months if you somehow manage to make a good impression. Do you accept?”

 _Diplomacy_. Sakura thought dazedly. _Words and statistics and convincing people they’re better off with our help and helping us in return despite having a history of wars and misunderstandings and sabotage between us. And we won’t even be convincing normal_ people _but a_ Kage _. Oh, god we’re in over our heads but somehow-_ she shot a glance at Shikamaru who met her gaze and she could see the same mix of apprehension and excitement reflected in his eyes as they both turned to respond-

“We accept.”


	7. Choices

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> diplomatic mission, new friends & emotional growth

“So, Kiri, huh?” Genma-san asked, leaning against her doorframe, watching as Sakura packed for the mission. “Not quite what you were expecting, was it?” he grinned and the rosette paused in her tracks long enough to send him a miffed look before she sighed.

“I didn’t expect to be saddled with a _diplomatic mission_ , no. I was expecting something simple like a courier mission or infiltration or something that I was _prepared for_ in the Academy. I have no idea how to convince the Mizukage that this treaty is a good idea and I’m not sure Shikamaru does either, despite being from a clan.” She admitted, shooting the tokujo an inquiring look. “Would it be too much to hope that you’d have some pearls of wisdom to pass on that might prove useful?” she asked hopefully though didn’t look up from her task.

Genma shrugged, though the rosette didn’t see it with her back to him. “I might have some.” He murmured at which Sakura perked up, turning round to face him curiously. “It’s not really classified information so they shouldn’t have a problem with you knowing it – in the last decade or so, there were serious bloodline purges in Kiri under the previous Mizukage. The Village orchestrated a coup d’état and overthrew him, but the Godaime Mizukage is still struggling with converting or getting rid of all of those who were in favour of the purges. She seems a lot more lax and tolerant in her approach and I’ve heard rumours that she herself has a bloodline ability. That might be something you could use in your favour, spin something about how Konoha’s doujutsu users are clearly integrated into our society, but if you want more concrete information then hold on a second.” The brunet disappeared while Sakura pondered over the information she’d been presented with, slowly working out how she could twist it into a persuasive argument if the Mizukage actually agreed to hear them out. She snapped out of her reverie only when two books landed in her lap and she raised her eyes to meet Genma-san’s smug gaze then focused on the titles.

“’ _The Shinobi Nations and Kenjutsu’_?” she questioned incredulously, staring up at Genma-san in confusion. The tokujo shrugged.

“There’s a nice little section in there about the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist which you might find useful seeing as it was Kiri’s pride and joy a few years back. Oh, and along those lines, it would be a good first impression if you had a katana or something of the sort when you arrived there: Mist-nin seem to respect people who know their way around a blade.” Genma-san explained and Sakura nodded, grateful for the pointers. Her eyes fell on the other book;

“’ _Kirigakure: Politics, Economy and Population’_?” her eyes rose to meet the amused gaze of the tokujo. “Genma-san, _why_ do you _own_ this?” she asked incredulously, knowing that the brunet must’ve already had these books in his possession for him to be able to procure them so quickly.

Again, a shrug was her immediate answer. “You forget that my genin teammate was an even worse bookworm than you. Some of his habits rubbed off, so sue me. Besides, it’s good to be prepared.” He grinned when she nodded and stored the books in her pack to be read on the way. The rosette cast an assessing glance around her room then smiled, satisfied that she didn’t seem to have missed anything major. “Done?” Genma-san asked, and when she nodded in confirmation, he gestured for her to shuffle up. “Then you won’t mind me checking?” Sakura shook her head; she was actually glad that he offered to check as his experience would be great to reassure her that she _really_ hadn’t missed anything vital. The tokujo carefully shifted through everything she’d packed: clothes to last her at least two weeks, scrolls containing extra sets of kunai and shuriken, a map, enough food rations to last for the estimated week-long journey, some money, the books he’d offered her and a scroll on a new genjutsu she’d found in the chunin section of the library. Genma-san nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“Do you own a travelling cloak?” he asked once he zipped up her pack and when Sakura shook her head, no, because she hadn’t _needed_ one before, he held up a hand in the universal ‘wait a moment’ and promptly disappeared again. When he came back, he had a charcoal grey bundle in his arms, and when he unfolded it, it revealed a full-length cloak made of flowing, soft-looking material. “This should fit you – I was a twerp when I was on the Guard Platoon till I hit my growth spurt at seventeen. I hope you don’t mind the fact that it’s a little used?”

But Sakura just stared at him, disbelieving and more than a little touched. “I- Genma-san, are you sure?” she asked, not missing how significant the garb must be to the man if it was from his days guarding the Yondaime.

The brunet scoffed. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, brat. Now try it on.” He held it out to her and Sakura obediently stepped forward, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. When the cloak fell around her, held together by a clip that rested at the hollow of her throat, Sakura burrowed her face into the softness and promptly turned away, sneezing. Genma-san laughed at her. “Ah, yeah, I probably should’ve mentioned it might be a tad dusty – it lived in my closet for the last decade or so, but I just couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. You might want to shake it out a little at first.” He told her between chuckles, and Sakura shot him a glare when she recovered from her coughing fit and stubbornly kept the cloak on. It was fine as long as she didn’t _burrow_ into it: the material enveloped her whole form in a cocoon of warmth and fell to just above her ankle so it wouldn’t get in her way while she ran. If she didn’t know better she’d say it was custom-made for her and she did a little twirl, unable to resist the action. She shot the tokujo a grateful smile once the material settled and glanced at the clock then promptly blanched. She was supposed to meet Shikamaru at the gates in fifteen minutes. Carefully pulling out the scroll that held all of her weapons out of her pocket, she selected the daito, safe in its sheath, and secured it to her belt, letting the sheathed blade rest comfortably along the outside of her left thigh, ending just above her knee so it wouldn’t interfere with her jumps. Taking a deep breath, she shouldered her pack and faced Genma-san.

“Any last minute, potentially lifesaving tips?” she asked teasingly, but was surprised when the tokujo levelled her with an uncharacteristically serious look.

“There is an old… _custom,_ if you will. If they try to give you a hitai-ate, accept it, but _never_ replace your Konoha headband with it.” He gestured to where the proof of her loyalty to her Village sat comfortably around her head. “Wear it round your neck if you have to, but always make sure everyone knows which Village you belong to.” Struck by the seriousness of his gaze, Sakura nodded wordlessly, storing the information over to digest at a later date. At her easy acquiesce, Genma-san grinned yet again and patted her head. “Other than that, don’t die.”

And Sakura couldn’t help herself, she snorted. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She teased. “No way am I dying before you get the chance to teach me about the Hiraishin.”

The brunet groaned. “Why did you have to remember _that_ of all things?” he despaired, but smiled. “Now shoo.” He waved her off. “Travel safe.” And Sakura jumped forward, wrapped her arms around his middle, _squeezed_ and was off and out the door before he even had the chance to draw a breath and voice his indignation.

When she met Shikamaru at the gates, he did a quick once-over of her outfit but remained silent. Sakura was pleased to note that he too exchanged his trademark short-sleeved jacket and mesh shirt for something a bit better suited for Kiri’s climate. He kept the brown pants, but his torso was now adorned by a long-sleeved beige shirt and what looked to be a brown vest underneath his chunin vest, and he too had a large pack slung over his back.

“Ready?” he asked in lieu of greeting as they made their way towards the gates. “Yeah.” Sakura replied, looking past the great red gates of her home to the unknown that lay beyond. “I’m ready.”

She was surprised when the gate guards turned out to be none other than the Terrible Twins. “Sakura-chan!” Kotetsu called, grinning, and Sakura didn’t miss how Shikamaru’s eyes widened, surprised. “Congrats on your promotion! Do you have a mission now? Where you going? I’m surprised Genma let you out of his sight, he’s damn protective- _ouch_!” the raven was cut off by his partner digging his elbow into his ribs.

“Let her breathe, idiot.” Izumo admonished before he turned to the rosette with a smile. “But congratulations nonetheless, Sakura-chan, and here, this reminds me,” he dug into one of his pockets and produced a thin, baby-blue scroll. “I did say I’d teach you my Water Release when you made chunin.” was his answer to her questioning glance. “But since you’re going on a presumably long-term mission,” he eyed her and Shikamaru’s packs, “then there’s no harm in letting you get acquainted with it by yourself and just come to me if you have any questions when you’re back in the Village.”

Sakura positively _beamed_ and hugged the brunet before shooting them both a grateful grin while she handed Izumo their mission scroll. “Thank you, Izumo-san, Kotetsu-san.” She finally murmured when she was confident her voice wouldn’t break. “I’ll seek you out for a spar when I’m back.” she promised and delighted in their twin nods.

“By the way, kid, you could really do with dropping the honorific. You’re no longer our adorable little kouhai as we’re now the same rank and besides, having – _san_ attached to my name makes me feel _old._ ” Kotetsu grouched and Sakura shot him a faux-innocent expression before she spoke,

“But you _are_ old.” She teased, grinning unapologetically. “You’ve got a good decade on me, Kotetsu- _san,_ that’s _ancient._ ” The raven spluttered while Izumo laughed before his partner caught his breath enough to retaliate.

“I’ll not hesitate to add another ten more laps to your daily circuit around Konoha if you don’t take that back _right now.”_ He threatened, but the rosette waved him off.

“Genma-san threatened me with a _hundred_ , Kotetsu-san, you really need to work on your intimidation tactics.” She informed the chunin, but blanched when he shot her an evil grin.

“Ah, but Genma would never actually _make_ you run them cause he’s _fond_ of you.” He told her gravelly. “You don’t have me wrapped around your little finger just yet and I will not _hesitate_ to make you run even if I have to _chase_ after you to ensure you do it.” There was an evil glint in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “So, what was it you said about my age?”

“I s-said that twenty-three is clearly a shinobi’s prime, springtime of youth and all that.” She stammered, inching behind Shikamaru when the raven stared her down.

“Exactly!” he suddenly brightened before peaking over his partner’s shoulder at their scroll. “You’re being sent to Kiri? _Ew_.” He pulled a face and winced when Izumo dug an elbow into his other side. “I mean, have fun, travel safe, yadda yadda. And get me a souvenir!”

Sakura laughed, accepting back the scroll from Izumo and stashing it along with the water jutsu one in her flak jacket beneath her cloak. “Thank you. I’ll see you soon!” she called then turned to Shikamaru and nodded.

And they were off.

* * *

 

“I didn’t realise you had such an extensive network in the upper ranks.” Shikamaru murmured once they made camp for the day, the journey thus far having gone in almost complete silence.

“Network?” Sakura echoed before she connected the dots. “Ah, you mean Izumo and Kotetsu?” when Shikamaru nodded, she shrugged. “It’s hardly a network – they trained me in the last two weeks of the month we had to prepare for the third stage and after that we somehow stayed in touch because they’re friends with Genma-san. We sparred, like, twice since I got out of the hospital.”

“Are they the reason you know bukijutsu?” he asked at last and Sakura stifled a snort.

“Got it in one.” She replied, stretching lazily. “Genma-san arranged for them to train me once it became clear that he wouldn’t be able to do so after he was named proctor.” She explained, at which her temporary partner frowned.

“I meant to ask about that, actually.” He admitted and Sakura was a bit thrown by the sudden interest from the usually private genius. “How is it you suddenly live with a tokujo instead of in the chunin apartments where orphans normally go?” he had the grace to murmur ‘sorry’ when Sakura winced at his blunt question and offered to set up their tent while the rosette got herself together. Finally, she sat on a rock and smiled grimly.

“I can tell you the whole story if you’d like.” She finally told the Nara and waited till he made himself comfortable and nodded.

So she told him of the events that had led up to this point, her resolve after the mission to the Land of Waves, meeting Genma-san, working with him on genjutsu, the Chunin Exams, working with him during the month off and finally being told of her parents’ passing and being offered to stay with the tokujo. When she finished, she found Shikamaru looking at her assessably before he stood up. “You say you were average and nothing special, but ‘nothing special’ wouldn’t have caught and _held_ the attention of a tokujo and two chunin regardless of any favours they may have owned. You’re _skilled_ , Sakura.” And so saying, he shot her a final lazy wave before he disappeared in his tent, a quiet ‘goodnight’ drifting over to her as she took first watch.

Sakura blinked owlishly, thrown off, before she settled more comfortably against the rock and fell into a meditative trance, stretching out her chakra coils and bringing them back in, all the while trying to wrap her head around the words the Nara had left her with.

 _Huh,_ she mused when she finally realised what Shikamaru said had been a roundabout compliment, _who’d have thought._

* * *

 

Sakura read the scrolls and books Genma-san had gifted her with in the breaks they took between travelling and in the evenings before the sun set. It took them three days to cross the border of the Land of Fire and find themselves in the aptly-named Land of Water and when Sakura looked at the map, she estimated another two days at least to cross the water and get to Hidden Mist Village proper, a prediction Shikamaru glumly agreed with.

There were two or three moments over those three days that had Sakura snorting in rather unladylike manners; the cause of them all?

Shikamaru.

The teen was grouchy and lazy and _stupidly smart_ , but he was also quirky and had a _wickedly_ sharp sense of humour that reminded her somewhat of Genma-san. The first time Sakura ended up snorting water out of her nose when she took a sip from her canteen was when they paused for a water break and the brunet crumpled onto a rock and pulled out a vaguely familiar board.

Then, the said snort happened and Sakura nearly hacked up a lung trying to catch her breath; when she was done, she managed to choke out, “You brought a _shogi board_ to a _diplomatic_ _mission_? The hell’s wrong with you?” she demanded incredulously, half amused, half genuinely stupefied.

Shikamaru merely sighed and shrugged, setting up the board on the flat surface of the rock he was slouching on. “I get bored, the road’s long and it’s something familiar.” At Sakura’s questioning look at the admittedly vague explanation, he rubbed his neck somewhat sheepishly. “The furthest my team’s been was to the Hidden Valleys Village. Asuma-sensei recommended I bring something familiar in case… y’know.” He trailed off, somewhat awkwardly. Sakura quirked an eyebrow.

“In case you get homesick?” she offered and smiled slightly when he nodded, not quite meeting her eyes. It was times like these that Sakura was reminded that despite the other teen’s overwhelming intellect, they were still the same age and they were still _children_. Perhaps not in the eyes of their fellow shinobi nor their kage, but Sakura’s mother was always saying that the reason she scorned the ninja ways so was because they ‘started too young and died not long after’. And looking at Shikamaru, who for once looked like a little lost boy out of his depth and not the genius Sakura had come to know, the rosette found that she finally somewhat understood her mother. So she smiled a little sadly and perched on the same rock as the Nara, on the other side of the board to him.

“Want to play a game?” she asked instead of voicing her thoughts, earning a surprised glance from the brunet. “What? It’s not like we have any set time we have to arrive there and we could use a break.” She explained when he raised an eyebrow.

Shikamaru’s face made it clear he didn’t buy her explanation in the slightest but there was a hint of relief in his eyes that told Sakura he wasn’t going to argue.

So they played.

One game morphed into two and two became four and suddenly the night was upon them but the rosette couldn’t find it in herself to care that they essentially wasted a good three hours of travel time, not when the tension Sakura didn’t even _realise_ was there before disappeared from his shoulders.

A wry grin pulling at his lips, Shikamaru finally put the board away. “Thank you.” He murmured at last and Sakura knew it wasn’t for the games themselves but rather what they allowed him to do. So she grinned and waved cheerfully then started setting up her tent. “I really don’t think I was enough of a challenge for you to thank me for a couple of games,” she teased, rejoicing when she heard a snort and the familiar grumble of _troublesome woman_ before she continued, “but you’re welcome nonetheless.” And so saying, she climbed into her tent and settled in for a few hours of sleep, wordlessly nominating Shikamaru for first watch.

She’d spent the last three hours perched on a rock and hunched over a shogi board in near-silence. She felt perfectly justified to treating herself to a semblance of comfort as a reward.

(Inwardly though, Sakura could freely admit that seeing the unease at being so far from home gradually leave the Nara’s hunched shoulders during their games had been reward enough. But it would be a few more weeks before she could admit that to Shikamaru’s face and not want to hide afterwards, so she kept up the pretence of sleep in return for helping him out and fell asleep with a smile on her face.)

* * *

 

The Land of Water was… _wet._

The fact wasn’t quite so obvious after they crossed the border separating it from the Land of Fire, but the moment they got to the very edge of the peninsula and saw the sheer amount of _water_ that separated them from their goal, that fact was hammered home.

Not to mention the humidity was _killing_ Sakura’s hair.

She and Shikamaru debated the pros and cons of simply walking over the water and hoping to reach one of the islands before their chakra ran out, but they decided that no Mist shinobi would take kindly to two Konoha-nin walking willy-nilly to what was essentially Kiri territory. Not to mention that they doubted their diplomatic mission had been made common knowledge, so there really was nothing that kept any potential shinobi from assuming they were there for less than honourable reasons. It was during the time they took to come to a decision whether they should stay put or attempt to cross the water regardless that Sakura became aware of a new presence close-by.

The pair of ninja who appeared from what seemed to be thin air when she finally noticed them was both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing, because they turned out to be their ticket into Kiri as, after the taller of the two demanded Shikamaru show him their mission scroll, the duo stepped aside and revealed a rather large sampan boat and gave curt instruction for the Konoha-nin to _get the hell on board._ A curse because, well. Both men seemed to be in their late thirties or early forties, a feat in itself when one considered their line of work, but that also meant that they had survived long enough that they were largely distrustful of anything _not Kiri_ anywhere near them. A pair of baby-faced _Konoha_ chunin of all things requesting safe passage to the very heart of their land was near enough blasphemy for the two.

Sakura had to bite her lip to resist fidgeting when their escorts’ eyes bore into her and she made a point of looking around, hoping to find something to focus her attention on instead of the two clearly hostile Mist shinobi. Given that they were currently surrounded by _mist_ and _water_ as far as the eye could see, that wasn’t working out all that well for her.

She nearly jumped when the shorter of their escorts finally snorted. “So it seems Konoha does teach its brats _something_ of value.” the bluenette commented idly, sharp green eyes trained on the two chunin.

“Yuki, _shut up_.” His counterpart snapped, big, burly and intimidating the hell out of Sakura by simply _being there_ as the man seemed to almost radiate power.

“It’s boring as fuck and we’ve still got at least an hour on this damn boat and I’ll be damned if I have to spend it in silence.” The other man bit back then smirked. “Though it _is_ funny watching the brats jump out of their skin every time one of us so much as _breathes_ louder, it’s not quite good enough to tide me along.”

Just when it seemed the bigger man wouldn’t hesitate to strike his partner, Sakura gathered her courage and piped up.

“E-excuse me, but what did you mean by your earlier comment?” she asked bravely, though she hated herself for stuttering.

The man addressed as ‘Yuki’ smirked, but it was more aggressive than a display of amusement had any right to be. “You _waited._ ” He told her cryptically, baring sharp teeth in his grin when the rosette frowned. “There had been others before you who tried to cross the water by themselves. Needless to say, it was the last thing they ever did in this life.”

When Sakura blanched, Shikamaru was kind enough to take over from her. “We would’ve been attacked the moment we neared the shore, wouldn’t we?”

‘Yuki’ seemed almost giddy at the question. “ _’Attacked’_?” he echoed, laughing sharply. “Boy, you’d have been _destroyed._ If the sharks didn’t eat you, then the people living on the islands would’ve made sure you wouldn’t manage to come within a mile’s radius from the shore. We do not take kindly to intruders, even if they are children from the ‘ _nice_ ’ Village.” He smiled at the end, and it was that expression more than even the threatening words that made Sakura shudder, an action she was sure wasn’t missed. When the burlier man’s eyes shifted over to her, still cold and hostile, the rosette’s hand tightened unconsciously on the hilt of her daito and she shifted her weight so it rested more on her feet rather than the small bench. She regretted the action not too long after;

“Oh-ho-ho!” the green-eyed nin crowed, reaching into Sakura’s personal space and tugging the edge of her cloak aside, revealing her white-knuckled grip on her weapon of choice. The rosette flushed, embarrassed at her unease being discovered, but didn’t loosen her grip. “A _Konoha-nin_ knows her way around a sword? Well, this I’ve _got_ to hear!”

Curious, Sakura chanced a glance at the sullen nin, wondering if she understood his partner correctly. When all she got was a blank stare, the rosette capitulated and told the man dubbed ‘Yuki’ how she came to wield the daito and a handful of other weapons as well, making a point to leave out the names of those involved. They weren’t _that_ friendly with Mist yet, after all. When she was done, the man laughed.

“Well girlie, if the honoured Mizukage-sama doesn’t give you the boot, I’d like to see how that versatility of yours fairs against a _mastery_.” He announced, pointing to his own swords which criss-crossed across his back. Sakura was about to retort, but the glare the man’s partner sent her way before directing it at the younger nin silenced her.

“You are a hardened shinobi not some _brat_ fresh out of the Academy who gets excited with a shiny new toy.” He hissed, glaring in a way that sent shivers down the rosette’s spine. “ _Behave like it._ ”

“Ne, Tsurugi-taicho, you need to _ease up_. The kids are here to play diplomacy so some playing nice from us is required if you want them to stay long enough to see Mizukage-sama and not high-tail it out of here the second they get the chance.” The raven commented, brushing off his partner with the ease born from long exposure, seemingly easing up a little.

Sakura turned to Shikamaru, her eyebrow nearly disappearing in her hairline. _Taicho?_ she mouthed, thrown off. The Nara shrugged, but the rosette could see the cogs turning in the brunet’s mind.

“So, what d’you say, pinky?”

Sakura smiled faux-innocently, absently noting that Shikamaru froze when he noticed her expression but she decided to puzzle over that reaction at a later date. Instead, she turned to the Mist-nin. “I’d be honoured to have a spar, Yuki-san, as long as you drop the diminutive.” She replied sweetly, the corner of her mouth twitching up when he threw his head back and laughed. The hint of a smile disappeared a moment later when the movement revealed a thin but jagged line running all the way from the left side of the nin’s neck to the right. Almost… almost like _his throat had been slit._

The rosette forced her gaze away from the unusual scar and focused instead on the path ahead of them. She gasped when the mist cleared enough to reveal jagged mountains and between them a smattering of tall, cylindrical buildings which Sakura estimated were the centre of Kirigakure.

“Impressed?” Yuki asked rhetorically, but Sakura answered anyway.

“It’s just… there’s no _green._ ” Shikamaru snorted from beside her and even their escort grinned wryly.

“You won’t be seeing much of that here.” He snickered, gracefully rising and jumping out of the boat when it neared the shore. Sakura and Shikamaru followed at a more sedate pace, Tsurugi bringing up the rear. The two Konoha-nin marvelled at their surroundings, the grey and stone of Kiri proving a great contrast to the green and woodland of their home. The four walked to the gates in silence and Sakura’s eyes fell on two figures who awaited them before the entrance to the Village.

“Ao-san!” Yuki crowed cheerfully, waving. One of the men at the gates sent the raven the same long-suffering look Tsurugi had and didn’t deign it with a response other than a nod, but it was the other Mist-nin who caught and _held_ Sakura’s attention.

He couldn’t even be called a _man._

The _boy_ was probably not much older than her and Shikamaru and he cowered behind his partner, avoiding the gazes of both Konoha-nin and his comrades and looking so skittish the rosette had no doubt he’d rather be anywhere else but there. He had pale blue hair and rectangular-rimmed glasses yet despite his seemingly timid demeanour, there was a _massive_ bandage-covered sword strapped over his back. The other man was taller, clearly older and had greyish-blue hair spiked in a way that distinctly reminded Sakura of a shark’s fin, but it was his eyes which drew the rosette’s gaze – or rather, _eye._ There was a dark eyepatch covering his right eye and Sakura had to wonder whether he’d lost it or it was a stylistic preference.

“I am Ao, and this is Chōjūrō.” Ao greeted the two Leaf-nin, gesturing to himself and the teen beside him. “We will be your escorts around Kirigakure.”

Sakura bowed, a polite smile on her face. “Pleased to meet you, Ao-san, Chōjūrō-san.” Beside her, Shikamaru echoed her words and bowed as well. Taking point for the time being, the rosette took care of the introductions. “I am Haruno Sakura and my partner is Nara Shikamaru. We’ll be in your care.”

Ao nodded at them before turning his attention to their previous escorts. “Your part here is done. We’re taking her to Mizukage-sama.” He announced, inclining his head to the taller raven and scowling slightly at the younger man who merely grinned at him before both he and his partner seemed to melt into the mist and when Sakura blinked, they were gone.

“Come.” Ao commanded imperiously before he turned on his heel and stepped through the gates to Kirigakure proper, Chōjūrō following closely behind.

Shikamaru ambled up beside Sakura, bending over to murmur in her ear. “What are you willing to bet that the two we travelled with were Kiri’s ANBU?”

The rosette frowned, sending the brunet a measuring look. “I wouldn’t say ANBU, but definitely not normal jounin. But… there’s something else.” She responded, taking care that only Shikamaru heard her. “I don’t know what just yet but… something about him seems _familiar_.” She explained, inclining her head towards Ao’s kimino-clad back.

Her first impression of the man was far from favourable, but she didn’t dwell on it. Genma-san had warned her that not many would be too happy at the prospect of playing nice with Konoha, especially if the treaty they were meant to be signing was being delivered by _children._ It was Ao’s partner who caught Sakura’s attention, and she had to wonder what someone so clearly timid was doing in Kiri of all places. Then her gaze fell on the sword on his back and she froze. Shikamaru sent her a questioning look but the rosette ignored it in favour of leafing through ‘ _The Shinobi Nations and Kenjutsu’_ that Genma-san had gifted her with before she found the page dedicated to the Seven Swordsmen of Mist and she sighed.

 _Hiramekarei._ There was no doubt about it when she looked back at the bandaged shape across their escort’s back and Sakura stifled a snort. _Of course Mist wouldn’t let a shy boy guard a foreigner. But still, for him to be one of the Swordsmen even though he’s so young…_

Shikamaru nudged her, wordlessly demanding to know what she’d found but Sakura shook her head. She could _use_ this.

It was then that she realised they’d approached the widest and largest building of them all and it didn’t take a genius to divine it was the Mizukage’s office. After being led upstairs through a confusing number of stairways and corridors, Sakura and Shikamaru were instructed to wait while their two guards stepped through the steel-reinforced double door that shut behind them.

Shikamaru blew out a sigh. “Well, this was eventful.” The dry tone surprised a snort out of the rosette and she sent the Nara a measuring look.

“We knew this wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.” She told him evenly, though even she could admit to being a bit unsettled by all the stares they got walking through Kiri. “An idea of an inter-village alliance is nigh revolutionary. There will be a lot of opposition, both to the idea and to _us._ ”

“Easy for you to say when you can essentially _blend in_ with the buildings.” The Nara grouched. “Did you know Kiri was going to be all rocky and grey? ‘Cause if you did then you could’ve seriously passed some of that info on, y’know.”

Sakura was about to point out that _no,_ she _hadn’t_ known, but then she thought of Genma-san and his ‘it pays to be prepared’. She wouldn’t put it past the man to have known that and the reasoning behind him gifting the rosette with the cloak was suddenly much clearer. But before she could explain that to Shikamaru, the double door opened and Ao stepped out. “Mizukage-sama will see you now.”

The rosette had heard the whispers, the gossips, the words ‘young’ and ‘feminine’ and ‘beautiful’ that were attached to the Godaime Mizukage, but seeing her in person was still a shock.

The woman was a _beauty._

It seemed improbable that she’d been the one to overthrow the Yondaime Mizukage from the shadows and take over his seat. Seeing her behind the desk, her hair styled almost meticulously and Tsunade-worthy cleavage on display behind a flimsy mesh shirt, Sakura despaired at her own non-existent figure even more. Then she shoved that thought into a box in the corner of her mind and smiled politely.

“Honoured to meet you, Mizukage-sama, thank you for having us.” Sakura proclaimed as she dipped into a bow, considerably lower than to Ao but making sure it was still shallower than to her own kage.

The Mizukage waved a dainty hand, urging her and Shikamaru to straighten. “No problem, Haruno-chan, was it? And Nara-kun?”

Surprised, Sakura nodded, at which the brunette smiled. “Tsunade-sama sent me a letter informing me of the estimated time of your arrival.” _So that I could arrange ANBU-level escorts_ went unsaid, but one glance at Shikamaru told Sakura that he’d read between the lines too. “Though when your Hokage told me to expect baby-faced chunin, I didn’t quite expect you to actually be so… _baby-faced_. When did you graduate?”

Sakura absently noted Shikamaru’s slight scowl and could freely admit that the same irritation was building within her, but she kept on the polite smile regardless. “We graduated the Academy six months ago, Mizukage-sama.”

“And you’re already chunin?” the brunette asked, surprised. “Why, your Tsunade-sama must’ve forgotten to mention that Konoha was desperate enough after the Invasion to send greenies on A-Rank missions.” The rank of the mission wasn’t surprising – Tsunade had told them that due to the delicate nature of the mission more so than the danger its rank would be upped, but the slight against their Village’s decision making was not appreciated. To Sakura’s surprise, it was Shikamaru who made their displeasure known.

“Our age does not affect our ability, Mizukage-sama. And we would appreciate if you kept your opinions on Konoha’s decision making to yourself, as this _is_ meant to be an attempt at hashing out a treaty between our Villages, after all.” Sakura closed her eyes for a second, sure that Shikamaru had crossed the line between polite and aggressive. Ao’s hand drifting towards his kunai pouch reassured her of that. But then, the Mizukage laughed, the sound bell-like but pleased.

“It clearly doesn’t, indeed.” She agreed, smiling. “I apologise if I offended, Tsunade-sama requested that I haze you a bit before agreeing to anything. Needless to say, you passed with flying colours.”

Shikamaru had a lazy smirk on his face and Sakura belatedly realised that he _knew_ and wasn’t so aggressive because he was insulted but because he wanted to _show_ the Mizukage that he saw through her slights. The rosette was yet again overcome with the realisation that the boy beside her was a _genius,_ and as much as that stung her pride, it was also reassuring.

“I didn’t think you would be openly hostile, Mizukage-sama. I believe that was our escorts’ job.” Shikamaru pointed out and the brunette laughed again.

“Oh, I _like_ you.” She grinned, steepling her fingers under her chin. “But stop with this ‘Mizukage-sama’, it makes me feel old. Just Mei-sama will suffice. That goes to you too, Haruno-chan.”

Sakura nodded obligingly, slightly stunned at the turn of tone and conversation. Mei must’ve noticed because she smiled. “I don’t doubt that you’re exhausted after your travels. I’ll have Ao and Chō-chan show you to your lodgings and we can approach this treaty business tomorrow when you’re well-rested.”

The rosette ignored the bizarre honorific attached to the guard’s name as her mind scrambled to piece together a polite refusal. “Actually, Mizu- _Mei-sama,_ if you don’t mind, we’d prefer to get started on the terms of the treaty now.”

Shikamaru seemed to read her mind and stepped in, adding, “We’d like to know if there’s a point to unpacking.” He added with a small smirk, getting a similar one sent his way from the Mizukage in response.

“Very well,” she obliged, smiling as she waved to the two chairs before her desk. “take a seat and we can get started.”

* * *

 

Sakura was struggling.

This was not what she had in mind when she thought of having to convince a kage of an alliance. The fact that _Shikamaru_ had been casual and relaxed was to be expected, he was a _Nara_ after all, but the fact that Mei allowed it and _reciprocated_ baffled the rosette.

She was almost hoping to go back to the stilted silence of Ao’s company – at least then she _knew_ how to behave.

“So,” the Mizukage began, and suddenly the comfortable air seemed to vanish and she was all business. “what is this treaty Tsunade-sama is so desperate I agree to? What could you _possibly_ offer my Village?”

 _Finally._ Sakura thought, relieved. _This I can do._

She offered the brunette the scroll Tsunade had entrusted them with, the one that detailed the outlines of the terms of the treaty that Sakura had become familiar with over their days travelling and waited while the Mizukage familiarised herself with the text.

“Agree to mutual aid in times of need? Increase in trade and permission passes for merchants? No treaties with our respective Villages’ enemies? Kiri does not involve itself in mainland conflicts, we do not _have_ any enemies. This is all looking to be only beneficial to Konohagakure, I’d like to know what _Mist_ would get out of this before I agree to anything.” Mei finally stated, pushing the scroll away from her and levelling the chunin before her with a sharp stare.

Shikamaru stayed silent so Sakura took the reins.

“It is _mutually_ beneficial, Mei-sama.” She stressed, ignoring the shivers that ran down her spine from Mei’s sharp gaze on her. “You may say Mist does not have any _enemies_ due to keeping out of mainland countries’ business, but it lacks _allies_ for that same reason. True, you have managed to avoid most wars thanks to your position on the side-lines, but that also meant you had no-one to turn to when events in your Village took a turn for the worse. Had you had any allies on the mainland, you could’ve asked for their aid and ended your predecessor’s reign of terror that much sooner. You might say you’re safe from outside attacks due to the geographical isolation of your country, but what happens when the attack comes from _within_? Civil wars are just as disastrous as normal wars, as I’m sure you’re aware, and though you might have been criticised initially for getting foreign powers involved in Kirigakure’s business, I would’ve thought the sheer number of the lives you could’ve saved would’ve outweighed the critique of the die-hard autonomists.”

Sakura suddenly became aware that she had more than one pair of eyes trained on her with varying degrees of surprise mixed with suspicion, but she was far from done.

“Moreover, Konoha is far superior to Kiri in terms of population, as despite the wars we have been involved in, we treat our civilians well. More civilian merchants and more customers would be beneficial for Kiri’s economy as it is one of the worst amongst the Five Shinobi Nations. Only Sunagakure has worse stats than your Village, and in light of recent events, I’d dare say that’s hardly a point of pride. So trade with Konoha, and the Land of Fire by extension would help rebuild your economy and might stop some of your shinobi from leaving. I’ve heard that Kirigakure has had so many of its shinobi go rogue that it has an entire ANBU division dedicated to hunting them down. Hunter-nin, if I recall correctly. Now, I’m not saying that they hadn’t had good reason to leave, because if my kage decided to purge all the doujutsu users and clans with kekkei genkai I think I might’ve been tempted to leave too, but word is that you’re trying to distance yourself away from that ideology. Admirable and commendable, but it might be a bit hard to believe you’re successful if your shinobi keep on _leaving the Village,_ not for the lawless crimes and acts of terror but for the fact that your economy is in such a bad place that you simply can’t _afford_ to pay them for missions. So a trade partner in Konoha is essentially a way to ensure your shinobi will have something to come back to.” Sakura paused for breath, having an almost staring contest with the Mizukage and wilfully ignoring Shikamaru’s slightly widened eyes and Chōjūrō’s gaping mouth. Seeing the Mist-nin, another idea popped into Sakura’s mind. “Since, y’know, it’s hard to keep your ninja loyal when the Village’s pride and joy are either missing-nin or dead. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe Chōjūrō-san is the last of the Swordsmen who’s still loyal to his Village.” The fact that the temperature in the room dropped by a good ten degrees assured Sakura that she was _not wrong._ She managed to turn her victorious smirk into a casual shrug.

“And, if nothing else, an alliance with the ‘ _nice_ ’ Village – as that’s what most people seem to think Konoha is since we don’t make our Academy students kill each other to graduate – would be another step away from the marks your predecessor left on this Village. A complete 180, if you will.” Finally, Sakura stopped, and she became aware that Ao was staring at her with narrowed eyes while Chōjūrō seemed to be in a permanent state of shock, his mouth opening and closing yet no sound came out. Mei was the calmest of them all, her eyes narrowed contemplatively but there was a small smile on her face.

“I’ll be honest, I’d like to know where you get your information from, because I know _jounin_ who don’t know half of what you’ve just told me.” The Mizukage announced casually, but Sakura saw beneath the easy admission and into the unease, so she rifled through her pack and produced the two books Genma-san had gifted her with.

“Two easily-accessible books, a bit of common sense and some imagination, Mei-sama, that’s all.” The rosette explained, sending Shikamaru a reassuring smile.

“Aa, I see.” The Mizukage allowed, her eyes flickering between the titles. “Chō-chan,” she called suddenly, startling the two Konoha chunin. “I want you to take notes.” She pointed a manicured finger at Sakura. “ _This_ is how assertive I want you to become. _Convince me_ that my Village is struggling even more than I already know it is, show me that you know things you really shouldn’t know, prove to me that I am an _idiot_ for not seeing the obvious signs and wrap it up and stick a bow on it so that it seems like you’re merely advising me and not insulting my Village _to my face. Then,_ and _only_ then will I let you try out for the jounin exams.”

Sakura paled. _Was the Mizukage angry at her? Should she-?_

Just as she was about to rattle of a thousand apologies, Mei turned in her seat and shot the rosette a brilliant grin, not in the slightest angry. “I’ll sign the treaty. Everything you’ve said is true. It will take a while to convince the more die-hard elders, but I’m certain that it’ll work out. Are the terms you’ve presented me final or is there some wiggle-room?”

The rosette opened her mouth, but the words refused to come. This was _easy. Too_ easy.

Noting her speechlessness, Shikamaru took over. “We could send a letter to Hokage-sama, telling her of your acceptance of the initial terms and getting her input for any last minute changes. The time between the letters should also provide a large enough time-frame to convince your elders that a treaty with Leaf is a good idea.” He offered easily, earning a smile from the brunette and Sakura herself.

“You two may be new to this role, but you’re frighteningly efficient. You’re the smooth-talker,” she gestured at the Nara, “and your partner is the one with the sharp tongue and the ability to piece together loose facts into convincing scenarios. I’ve got to admit, I’m impressed.” Mei grinned at the two stupefied chunin before she made a shooing motion with her hand. “Now go, rest up, go sightseeing, visit a hot spring, what have you. Just _relax_ , because it’ll take me at least a week to convince the Elders and send a letter to your kage, and at least another week for any potential reply to reach us. Ao and Chōjūrō will be your guides and escorts for the duration of your stay, so you better get used to them.” She winked at the rosette when she noticed Sakura’s gaze lingering on the swordsman which made her blush at being caught and avert her eyes. “Off you go.”

Sakura and Shikamaru allowed their guides to usher them out of the Mizukage’s office and lead them to where they would be staying for the duration of their time in Mist. At some point, Chōjūrō drew level with Sakura who was lagging behind slightly and admiring the buildings around her, and spoke for the first time since she saw him.

“A-ano, e-excuse me, Haruno-san?” he murmured and it took the rosette a few seconds to realise that he was addressing her.

“Hm? Yes, Chōjūrō-san?” she inquired, quirking a brow curiously.

“I-I was wondering… how d-did you know I-I was one of the S-Swordsmen?” he asked, looking anywhere but at her before he quickly added “Y-you don’t have to a-answer-!”

“It’s no problem, Chōjūrō-san.” She reassured the bluenette, smiling gently. “My…” she paused, searching for a word with which to describe Genma-san. “ _guardian_ gave me a book about kenjutsu and its variations around the Shinobi Nations. It had a fairly descriptive section on the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist, including diagrams of what each respective sword looks like. Seeing how yours is… well, forgive me for pointing it out but _hardly inconspicuous,_ it was quite easy to piece that together. Hiramekarei, right?”

Chōjūrō nodded slowly, as if processing what she told him before asking again, “And… it didn’t strike you as w-weird that I-I’m, well, _m-me_?” and he gestured towards himself in a very self-depreciating manner, a small scowl twisting his lips. Sakura wondered who managed to destroy the teen’s self-confidence so much, but hastened to explain.

“My jounin sensei once told my team that there are people in this world who are younger than us but stronger than him.” she recalled, smiling at the bluenette when he shot her a surprised look. “So no, it wasn’t that shocking. Not to mention that it’s not as if you don’t have a swordsman’s build.” She gestured at his height which stood at a good foot taller than her and the breadth of his shoulders.

Chōjūrō seemed to mull that over, his scowl gradually fading out as he offered her a slight smile. “Thank you. I-I didn’t mean t-to pry, but most people even h-here are h-hesitant to believe I’m one of t-the Seven. It was… surprising, w-what you said to Mei-sama.”

“Sometimes,” Sakura murmured back, her eyes trained on Shikamaru and Ao who walked ahead of them, her thoughts casting back to the Chunin Exams. “people underestimating you is the greatest weapon you can use against them.” She told the chunin with a secretive grin.

The bluenette seemed thoughtful before he once again nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Thank you, Haruno-san.”

“Just Sakura, please.” The rosette corrected hastily. “We’re the same rank and I’m younger, _Haruno-san_ just sounds weird.”

To her surprise, Chōjūrō _blushed._ “S-Sakura-san, then.” He corrected himself awkwardly, the blush spreading to the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the familiarity.

But Sakura grinned, unrepentant and pleased. “Much better!” then, a thought struck her. “Ah, Chōjūrō-san, would you mind… going to the Village with me tomorrow?” she asked him hesitantly. “It’s just- Mist is the only other Hidden Village I’d been to outside of Konoha, so I’d like to do a bit of sightseeing. Maybe you could show me your favourite eateries?”

The blush on the bluenette’s neck adamantly refused to fade. “I-If that’s what y-you want, Har- _Sakura-san_.”

The rosette smiled brilliantly. “I’d very much like that, Chōjūrō-san.”

* * *

 

The first night in five days that Sakura got to spend in an actual bed was _blissful._

Her and Shikamaru got an apartment to share between them, not enormous but functional and all that they really needed between the two of them – two bathrooms, a lounge area, two bedrooms and a kitchen. The _fridge_ had even been filled for them which Sakura was incredibly grateful for. Trying to find a grocery store at seven in the morning in an unfamiliar Village was _not_ her idea of fun.

After she made them breakfast, Sakura and Shikamaru played a game of shogi while they waited for their escorts for the day to arrive. The Nara had been less than ecstatic about the prospect of _shopping_ he was even less inclined to spending the day by himself indoors or wondering off somewhere with _Ao._ The man seemed to grate on _both_ of their nerves and even _looking_ at him seemed to annoy Shikamaru though _why_ the Nara was so put off, Sakura didn’t know.

The rosette lost the first game, predictably, but the next match – which she actually seemed to be _winning_ somehow _–_ was interrupted by the arrival of their escorts. Grinning, the rosette jumped up, grabbing her wallet and Shikamaru's arm in one go and yanking him to the door. 

"Chōjūrō-san!" she called when she opened the door, revealing the bluenette standing there, all but twiddling his thumbs. Glancing over his shoulder, she nodded at their jounin attachment. "And Ao-san. Good to see you again, thank you for escorting us today.”

 Ao nodded, but his raised eyebrow gave Sakura the impression that he was saying  _as if we had a choice._ The rosette shrugged, not too fussed with the jounin’s long-suffering approach to essentially babysitting what he saw as a pair of foreign _children_. Her and Shikamaru had discussed their first impressions of Mist quite extensively the previous evening and the Nara had disclosed what he’d seen from the jounin during their talk with the Mizukage.

_“He looked at Mei-sama as if she were an idiot for even letting us in.” he told her. “I thought he was going to snap at her when she agreed to the treaty. He certainly looked ready to fight us.”_

 When they were finally led to the main street of Kirigakure, Sakura was gawking everywhere. It was almost… _silent_ in comparison with Konoha. The people seemed quiet, withdrawn, only a handful casting suspicious glances at the Konoha-nin but largely keeping their peace. There was none of the hustle and bustle Sakura associated with her home, no friendly smiles or eager vendors trying to sell their produce. Everyone was just minding their own business, the stalls all blending into each other, the gloom of the place only exaggerated further by the ever-present rain.

“Um, Chōjūrō-san… what happened here?” Sakura asked at last, pitching her voice softer so none of the civilians would overhear. “I mean… I know roughly how life was like before Mei-sama took the Mizukage’s seat, but I thought that was years ago.”

“You know _nothing_ of what it was like.” Ao shot back, without breaking stride or even looking at her. “But these people do. They were oppressed for years until the Godaime came along, and now they are weary, tired and distrustful of any drastic change.”

“Our sole _presence_ here signifies change, we know, Ao- _san._ But Sakura’s question, I believe, was _why_ they’re still like that. Or is the economic situation in your Village even worse than her prognosis suggested yesterday?” Shikamaru cut in, his voice surprisingly sharp.

Ao all but _bristled_ , causing Chōjūrō to shrink in on himself at the jounin’s blatant hostility. Frowning, Sakura pulled on the bluenette’s arm, dragging him a safe distance away from her partner and the older man.

“Ne, Chōjūrō-san,” she mused, thinking of where she wanted to go first. “do you know where a good weapons shop is?”

The bluenette perked up and offered her a hesitant smile. “I-I do. I-it’s where I go to get a-all my weaponry. I think… I think y-you’ll find it a-adequate.”

The rosette shot him a grin, pulling on his arm, resolving to make that shyness disappear by the time they had to leave. “Then lead the way, Chōjūrō-san!”

* * *

 

Sakura pried the door open, made a bee-line for the sofa and _collapsed._

Shikamaru groaned, making a similar beeline for the kotatsu and crawling under, a long groan escaping him. “Never… _again.”_ He swore making Sakura chuckle tiredly.

“Who would’ve thought Mist was so damn _big_?” she mused, exhausted.

The clock on the wall read _21:14_ and the two Konoha-nin only just got back to their temporary quarters after a whole day out in the Village.

“I am _never_ going shopping with a girl _ever. Again.”_ Shikamaru grumbled, turning over onto his stomach to prop his chin on his arm. “How did you even buy _so much_?”

Sakura snorted, pushing herself into a sitting position. Her eyes fell on the multitude of bags she hauled in and she grinned wryly; she _had_ bought quite a lot but really, most if not _all_ of her purchases could be easily justified.

How?

Because mainly, she got souvenirs.

The second she lay eyes on them, Sakura fell in love with a pair of twin kodachi and immediately got them for Izumo and Kotetsu, her favourite, knuckleheaded (at least Kotetsu was) weapon freaks. When she took them to the cashier, it was with the expectation of a steep price – not only were they beautiful and good quality, but the blade was strengthened and chakra-conductive. Imagine her surprise when the shopkeeper asked for a third of the price she had been predicting; she was a bit stupefied as she handed over the money and looked to Chōjūrō for an explanation. The blunette looked a bit embarrassed as he explained that it was because of the poor economic situation Mist had been in before Mei-sama took over. He said that the state of the economy had one of two effects on the small businesses – it either made the prices _increase_ to ridiculous levels, though that was mostly for food produce, or it made them drop, but that was mainly seen in the one-man businesses which were ran by masters of their trade, such as the small weapons shop she had found her kodachi in. Feeling a bit guilty for not insisting on a higher price for the – clearly worth it – kodachi, Sakura resolved to return to that shop the next time she had some time to herself.

Next, Chōjūrō led her to a clothing store. He pointed out some of the – frankly horrendous – leg warmers some ninja insisted on wearing and they shared a grin at the thought of the painful fashion faux pas. But Sakura’s opinion of the place skyrocketed when she spotted a familiar bundle of grey and she flashed to the rack and pulled out a cloak painfully reminiscent of the one she arrived in, with the same soft material and shade of grey as her own. When she unfurled it, it became clear that it was much longer than hers and she all but begged Ao to humor her and try it on as she reasoned he was a very similar height to Genma-san. When it fell just above the jounin’s ankle, Sakura was sold. Thanking the man profusely and getting a weird look from Shikamaru, the rosette rushed to the till to buy the cloak. She had no doubt that Genma-san would appreciate it, seeing what he one he gifted Sakura with had reminded him of. Pleased, she set off again, a grin on her face and the bundle of cloth lay carefully folded in a bag that she clutched to her chest with her right arm while the bag housing the kodachi dangled from her right wrist.

After Sakura managed to persuade Shikamaru that if he got his mother a gift, she’d stop ‘nagging him’ as the brunet called it, the group made a beeline to the closest jewelry store. The rosette laughed as her partner groaned and complained about the variety of pins and clips and necklaces and bracelets there was to choose from, but her laughter was cut short when her eyes fell on a particular pin. It was a small, silver hairclip embedded with jade stones and small, green sequins that twinkled merrily when the light fell on them. It looked just like what Sakura’s mother used to wear in her hair before she went on stage, but the one the rosette remembered from her childhood had been lost in the fire. This one, Sakura thought as her trembling fingers moved to pluck it from its stand, this one was almost a carbon copy of the pin from her memories, and she ached with the need to bring it home and show it to her mother with a smile, and maybe get a rare smile back from the woman. But that was no longer possible.

_Wasn’t it?_

After a short time spent pushing back the tears that sprang to her eyes at the thought, Sakura got the elaborate hairclip and resolved to place it on her mother’s grave. Mebuki would not be able to appreciate it as she once might have done, but the action would make Sakura feel like she was keeping her parents in the loop of her life despite the fact that they were no longer with her.

Brushing away the last of the traitorous tears that had escaped her and ignoring Shikamaru’s concerned glance in her direction, Sakura walked out of the shop, Chōjūrō trailing behind her like a faithful shadow while Ao and Shikamaru brought up the rear.

“Ne, Chōjūrō-san?” the rosette began carefully, hating her voice for how it wobbled slightly, but she barreled on when she was sure she had the bluenette’s attention. “Are there any bookshops nearby?”

At that, Chōjūrō offered her the closest to a smile she had seen from him. Turning on his heel, he gestured for her to follow and she did, sharing a curious glance with Shikamaru as they trailed after the two Mist-nin. The Nara had a look of chronic long-suffering, but he had listened to her advice as he too was clutching a small bag with two accessories – a hairpin much like the one Sakura had bought for his mother and a small, thin silver bracelet with a single charm of the kanji for ‘sight’ dangling from for Ino. Sakura resolved to tease him for it later on, but for now, she had some books to hunt.

When Chōjūrō led them to the bookshop, the rosette immediately knew she was going to spend a _long time_ in it. She send an apologetic glance at Shikamaru who merely sighed and waved her off, strolling away towards something that caught his interest. Glancing around, Sakura gravitated towards the bookshelf helpfully labelled ‘swordsmanship’ – there was really no greater place to deepen her knowledge of the art than the place renowned for their sword techniques. In the end, Sakura walked out of the shop with an armful of books and scrolls – she’d found a book on the basics of supplementary Water Release, two books on kenjutsu with very helpful diagrams to illustrate some of the more complex movements, a scroll on metal maintenance, a book that was more of a journal than a technical text on the basics of fuinjutsu – the only reason Sakura even picked it up was because of the red swirl on the book’s spine that she recognised from the uniforms of the ninja of her Village, so she had bought it to inspect at a later date. And if she was being fully honest with herself, the realisation that the hiraishin (or what she knew of it anyway) was seal-based had also greatly influenced her decision to buy the book. And lastly, because she was truly feeling a bit domestic, she got a cookbook with typical Kirigakure recipes, fully intent on making Genma-san her guinea pig.

The rest of the day was spent simply walking around Kirigakure’s streets and popping into various eateries and essentially _sightseeing,_ something which Sakura had never been able to do before, but when the evening rolled around and a deep chill settled into their bones once the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the rosette decided to call it a day.

Which led to the situation at hand – her and Shikamaru spread out in their apartment, one draped over the sofa and the other curled up under the kotatsu like a cat might.

“Oh, quit your grumbling, at least your mother and Ino-pig will be off your back for a few days after we get back.” She teased despite her fatigue.

Shikamaru cracked one eye open to give her the stink-eye. “What you said better work, or I’d have literally _tired myself out_ for nothing.” He warned and Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

Rolling off the sofa with no small degree of effort, Sakura rose and gathered her shopping only to dump it in the room she’d claimed as hers before she trotted over to the kitchen. “I don’t feel like cooking tonight but if you want anything, there’s sponge cake, umeboshi and anmitsu which I might be kind enough to bring you!” she called over to the Nara, getting a put-upon groan in response. “I’m going to take that as ‘yes, thank you, Sakura, please bring me some sponge cake’, just so you know!” she teased and pulled out a small plate and filled it with the sponge cake she’d found in one of the cupboards at the same time as she filled a bowl with her favourite plums. She trekked back to the lounge area, leaving Shikamaru’s plate by his head as his face was currently buried in one of the cushions, while Sakura herself nibbled on her umeboshi in between setting up the Nara’s travel shogi set.

“C’mon, lazy ass, I don’t feel like sleeping just yet so how about you destroy me at shogi again?”

To her upmost surprise, that actually got Shikamaru to react.

He raised his head to shoot her a glare, mumbling under his breath about _troublesome women_ and whatever did he do to deserve this fate. But even Shikamaru couldn’t deny that the corner of his lips had twitched upwards into an amused smirk when he finally took his place opposite her, with the board between them. In response, Sakura felt an answering grin form on her own face.

For the first time since they left Konoha, she felt content, and it was with that contentment in mind that Sakura later sat at the desk and wrote a letter to Genma-san.

* * *

 

A week had gone by fairly uneventfully. Some days were spent lazing about their quarters, others were spent sightseeing and getting to know Kiri and its people, with Chōjūrō and Ao as their faithful albeit varyingly enthusiastic guides. The day before, Sakura had dragged her partner and their guides onto a crazy trek around Kiri and all but killed Shikamaru, so she decided it was justified when the next morning the Nara adamantly refused to even get out of bed. That left Sakura to get ready and go sightseeing by herself. She was kind enough to leave some breakfast on the counter for when the Nara eventually decided to crawl out of his bedroom while she waited for her escorts to arrive. Fifteen minutes later, there was a tentative knock on her door and Sakura rushed to open it. To her surprise, she could only see Chōjūrō waiting for her, his usual grumpy companion nowhere to be seen. Her expression must’ve betrayed her thoughts because the bluenette fidgeted nervously before explaining.

“Ao-san’s presence has been requested at the Council meeting. I-I hope you don’t m-mind that I’ll be your sole escort for today?” he stammered, not meeting Sakura’s eyes.

When she finally managed to process the information, Sakura grinned. “That’s great!” she enthused, startling Chōjūrō. “I mean, between you and me, I much prefer your company to that of Ao-san.” She divulged, delighting in the blush that her words caused.

“I-I-I-! T-Thank you…?” the bluenette finally stammered out, as, despite her best efforts, Sakura had not been able to get him to overcome it yet.

Suddenly, an idea popped into her mind and she mulled it over, glancing at the teen then back at the door to her room as she thought it through.

“Ne, Chōjūrō-san?” she asked, deciding _to hell with it._ When she had his attention again, she smiled. “Would you mind terribly sparring with me?” she inquired, trying to keep herself from sounding _too_ hopeful at the prospect. Chōjūrō seemed… _shocked,_ for the lack of a better word.

“A-Are you sure t-that’s how y-you want to spend the day?” he queried, sounding unsure.

Sakura shot him her best, most persuasive smile. “Most certainly, as long as you’re not averse to it.” She assured him. A new glint entered Chōjūrō’s eyes and Sakura knew she had him hooked.

When he shot her a grin, cautious but still the most open she’d seen from him thus far, Sakura knew she’d _won._

* * *

 

Correction: Sakura had won the _verbal_ battle. In the actual spar itself… well. She was _far_ from victorious.

The rosette had known, prior to requesting that they spar, that she’d probably be _absolutely destroyed_ if she actually faced Chōjūrō on a battlefield. Nonetheless, _suspecting_ something and having it painfully shoved in your face were two completely different things.

Once they made their way onto one of the less frequented training grounds that Chōjūrō had recommended, Sakura proposed a no-chakra, no-ninjutsu spar. Purely kenjutsu. The bluenette seemed surprised and a bit hesitant, but Sakura assured him that what she wanted was a friendly spar, not an _actual fight._

Even with those restrictions, Chōjūrō managed to essentially wipe the floor with her.

It didn’t help that his _Hiramekarei_ was easily the width of her torso at its thinnest, and all Sakura had to combat that was her daito. What _also_ didn’t help was the fact that she’d become so used to fighting Kotetsu and Izumo from two sides at once that she couldn’t fully focus her attention on Chōjūrō and kept glancing behind her, fully expecting someone to pop up and launch a joint offensive against her. That habit earned her a multitude of hits, even if the bluenette always ensured that he hit her with the flat of his bandaged blade.

Finally, Chōjūrō paused. Sakura straightened out from her dodge, gripping her side where a stitch burned her and panting heavily, absently noting that even her bruises had bruises. _A mere hour_ of play-fighting with Chōjūrō was a hundred times worse than her spars with Kotetsu and Izumo, and the rosette was struck with how _lacking_ her skills in bukijutsu actually were when compared with a master of the art.

“Ano, Sakura-san,” Chōjūrō started hesitantly, eyeing her bruised, panting form. “I-I think it would be fairer i-if I switched to a katana.” He proposed, putting his hands up when she automatically scowled. “I-I’m not implying you’re not handling y-yourself well, I-I just think you’re expending a l-lot more energy than I am simply parrying because of the disproportion of our blades and, well… I’m enjoying myself a-and I-I’d like to continue, if you’re willing.”

Sakura blinked owlishly for a moment, letting go of her aching side and staring at the teen in awestruck silence before a blinding grin bloomed on her face. “I’m enjoying myself too, Chōjūrō-san, and I’d love to continue. But… I don’t want to inconvenience you into swapping your blade.” She demurred, at which the bluenette waved her off.

“You wouldn’t inconvenience me, Sakura-san, and besides, I offered.” And the rosette was struck by how the teen didn’t stutter even once. But, instead of pointing it out, she just grinned and nodded, waiting. Chōjūrō laid his _Hiramekarei_ on the side by the tree line and produced a beautiful katana from one of his scrolls which Sakura hadn’t even noticed he’d had attached to his person. The rosette settled back into a crouch, drawing her daito before her, but Chōjūrō still seemed hesitant.

“I… couldn’t help but notice how you kept glancing back.” he observed, and Sakura winced. She _really_ needed to work on that habit. “It seemed like y-you were u-used to sparring with more than one person.” _Ding-ding, got it in one_. Sakura thought irritably, but was floored by what followed. “I could create a clone if you’d prefer to f-fight… like that.”

Slightly stupefied, Sakura nodded, not quite sure what more to do. With a quiet pop, a second Chōjūrō sprang into existence behind her and settled into a fighting stance. Slowly, gradually, a grin began pulling at Sakura’s lips as she adjusted her stance into something a lot more _familiar_ and called forth a second blade _._ Turning to the real Chōjūrō with the full force of her grin, she curled two fingers into the universal ‘come here’ gesture and delighted in his momentarily surprised expression.

Then, he sprang, and their dance began anew.

* * *

 

Unbeknownst to the sparring duo, they had an audience.

Ao, Shikamaru and the Mizukage were perched on the outskirts of the clearing, Mei’s ANBU guard keeping wisely out of sight but still _there_.

Shikamaru had been astounded to open his door in mid-afternoon to find the Mizukage and his less favourite escort on the other side, and had wordlessly agreed to following them when Mei led them to the outskirts of the Village, far from any prying eyes or gossiping villagers.

He was beginning to get a bit ansty and apprehensive when he sensed a chakra signature that had become familiar to him over the days. _Sakura?_

His temporary teammate had indeed soon been revealed, and Shikamaru nearly face-palmed when he realised what she was doing. _Challenging people to fights, she’s better suited to be Naruto’s teammate than she realises._

The Nara was even more surprised when the Mizukage seemed content to perch herself on a rock and watch, unseen, as her guard engaged in a friendly spar with a foreign diplomat. Cautiously, Shikamaru leaned against a similar outcrop of rock, while Ao mirrored him against a tree. Then, their attention focused back onto the sparring pair.

Sakura was losing.

She was outclassed, clearly, but not because of lack of trying or skill, no. She kept… getting distracted?

Shikamaru noted how self-satisfied Ao seemed and hoped that Sakura would manage to somehow have an ace up her sleeve, just to wipe that smirk off the man’s face.

He did not expect for Chōjūrō to suddenly pause the fight and say the ‘fighting two people’ part. After a quick glance at Ao, it seemed the jounin was equally stumped, but Mei had a secretive smile on her face as she watched. So Shikamaru turned back to the fight, watched as a clone appeared behind Sakura, how she adjusted her form so she was side-on to the swordsman and his clone, keeping them in her peripheral vision, and summoned a second blade, something between the katana that both Chōjūrōs gripped and the blade in her right hand. Shikamaru most definitely did not expect for the rosette to transfer the new weapon into her left hand and settle into the most comfortable position he’d seen from her since he’d been watching the fight.

Being ambidextrous was not unheard of, but certainly unusual for someone still relatively fresh from the Academy, Shikamaru was sure. He wondered, absently, how long it had taken her to be confident enough with her left hand to be able to handle two blades at once.

But that thought process was shoved to the back of his mind when the two teens sprang back into motion and he noticed how Ao’s scowl only intensified.

The main reason?

_Sakura was doing better._

And Shikamaru could not quite help the satisfied smirk at that fact, something which did not go unnoticed by Mei, who laughed soundlessly.

Chōjūrō and Sakura kept up their fight for another half an hour, then finally finished, bowed, and collapsed on the ground, tired but with grins on their faces.

Moving gracefully like the water she manipulated, the Mizukage rose and strolled into the clearing, startling the two.

“M-Mizukage-sama!” Both jumped up, startled, and hastened to bow.

Mei waved them off. “Good fight.” She praised, earning a blush from both teens and a stuttered thank-you from her guard. “Now, Haruno-chan, Nara-kun,” she beckoned Shikamaru over and he joined the rosette on the clearing, ignoring her raised eyebrow. “I apologise for not being able to find the time to speak with you between our introduction and today, but I am certain that you will find what I’m about to tell you as fair recompense: the Council had finally agreed to the treaty between our Villages, though they _did_ demand a slight change of terms. I already sent the missive with the updated terms to your Hokage, along with a letter in which I conveyed my personal commendations for how well her young diplomats had handled themselves. I expect a reply will come no sooner than in a week’s time, so you should prepare for another two weeks stay in my Village at the least. I hope everything has been up to your satisfaction so far?”

Both Konoha-nin blinked at her, equally stupefied.

“The Council… agreed?” Sakura murmured, perplexed. Genma-san said that those from the older generations would be the most difficult to convince as they may still remember the times when relations between Kiri and Konoha were far from ideal.

Shikamaru, on the other hand, concerned himself with responding to the Mizukage’s question, making her laugh at his grouchy complaints of ‘shopaholic teammates’ and praises of their accommodations and Kirigkure eateries.

“I’m glad, then. You can go, Nara-kun, thank you for accompanying me today and your kind words. Haruno-chan, I’d like to speak with you, if you have a minute.”

Sakura froze, shooting a perplexed glance at Shikamaru who merely shrugged but sent a slightly suspicious glance at the foreign kage before he slunked away. Left with no choice but to acquiesce, Sakura followed the woman to the Village, until they were on top of what the rosette belatedly realised was like the Kirigakure equivalent of the Hokage Mountain, only without the faces in the rocks – in other words, it was the highest point in the Village, and blissfully isolated.

“Mizukage-sama…?” Sakura questioned, unsure of what could possibly warrant such a location. But the brunette merely patted a boulder beside the one she was perched on, so Sakura carefully sat down, not taking her eyes off the woman which made her laugh.

“You can relax, Haruno-chan, I’m not here to chastise you or anything of the sort. If anything, I’ll admit to being a little bit… curious.” Then she mock-glared. “And I thought I told you that ‘Mei-sama’ is just fine.”

Sakura frowned, confused, but corrected herself nonetheless. “Curious about what exactly, Mei-sama?” she asked, careful not to appear too apprehensive.

Then, Mei’s eyes turned to her, and the rosette was startled by how _sharp_ they seemed. Sakura was suddenly reminded that here was a woman who had almost singlehandedly led a rebellion against a _kage._ The thought was enough to get her to look away.

“I’m curious about how a girl from a _civilian_ family knew more about the history and inner workings of my Village than her partner from one of the main clans in Konohagakure. So much more, in fact, that I was able to use some those arguments against my very own Elders. I’m also curious as to how that same girl managed to advance from Academy student to _chunin_ in the space of less than a year. I cannot call myself an expert in regards to Konohagakure’s society, but I’d assume it is equally as easy for a civilian to make themselves known in the shinobi ranks as it is in any other Village – that is to say, not easy at all.” And though Mei’s tone was conversational, _friendly,_ even, Sakura could not help the distinct impression she got that she was being interrogated.

So she straightened her back, squared her shoulders and met the Mizukage’s gaze, despite how tempting it was to look away and cower. “What I told you on our very first day here was true – most of my information came from books. The books, as well as some of the more, ah, _sensitive_ information came from my… guardian who is a veteran of the Third Shinobi War and thus knows enough about our world to pass on some of that knowledge to me.” Referring to Genma-san as her ‘guardian’ was both off-putting and strangely… _reassuring_ as it finally gave her a clear box to shove him into. Then, she got back on track. “It was that same guardian who ensured I had the skill necessary to perform well when my own sensei seemed… unconcerned by the obvious skill-gap between myself and my teammates, but he was still thorough enough to assure me that skill was not all that the Chunin Exams were about. As for my civilian background, well, it certainly made things a little more difficult, but I would not have it any other way.” _There,_ Sakura thought, pleased, _nothing too revealing, while still personal enough not to seem dismissive. Sakura: 1, sneaky interrogation tactics: 0._

Mei, it seemed, was also aware of the rosette’s essential non-answer, but she seemed amused more than anything. “Your sensei being Hatake Kakashi?” she queried, but by the twinkle in her eyes, Sakura already knew it wasn’t a question and she blanched.

_Sakura: -1, sneaky, sneaky Mizukage: 1_

“Ah, I was not aware that was common knowledge.” Sakura evaded carefully, stalling. She didn’t know where her hesitance to outright reveal things came from, but she wasn’t about to question it _now._

The Mizukage’s bell-like laughter reassured her, somehow. “That’s because it’s not.” She replied, and Sakura stiffened. “See, I wasn’t quite honest with you when I said I didn’t know much about you. Tsunade-sama had indeed informed me that she’d be sending a couple of ‘freshly-minted baby chunin’ over to present a peace treaty which she proposed in one of our earlier correspondences,” Mei explained, seemingly unaware that Sakura’s head was spinning. “but she also told me a bit more. She gave me a rough outline of what to expect from you and Nara-kun, nothing too incriminating, don’t worry, but enough for me to get the general idea of what to expect.” The rosette forced herself to meet Mei’s amused gaze. “Imagine my surprise when, instead of getting a ‘lazy genius’, I got a boy with sharp wit and knowledge of situational management, who seemed to take it upon himself to act as a mediator between my convoluted welcome designed to keep you on your toes and your particular brand of accusatory persuasion.” Sakura flushed, remembering how direct she’d been in her attempts of persuading the Mizukage and hating herself for her lack of tact. “Please don’t regret that!” Mei interrupted her sulking, laughing. “It was a breath of fresh air to see someone so secure in their knowledge that they had no qualms against butting heads with a _kage._ Though I don’t suppose Tsunade-sama quite expected you and Nara-kun to succeed.”

Embarrassed, Sakura buried her face in her hands and tried to will the furious blush away. Then, the Mizukage’s words fully registered in her mind and she brought her hands down in favour of blinking owlishly at the brunette. “If Tsunade-sama did not ‘expect us to succeed’ then why did she send us on this mission?”

“Ah,” and here, Mei looked even more amused. “I believe she referred to it as ‘hazing’?”

Sakura stared at the woman for a few seconds, her brain struggling to plough through the new information before she snorted and muttered something very unladylike. Mei’s startled, gleeful laughter rang through the air, but Sakura couldn’t find it in herself to feel embarrassed at the blunder.

“Well, I’m not sure if that helps you at all, but I think she’ll get a right shock out of my letter then.” Mei said, and Sakura’s eyes narrowed before a smirk bloomed on her face.

“Oh, yes, Mei-sama, that helps _a lot._ ”

* * *

 

Tsunade choked on her sake.

Ignoring the burn in her throat, she shot the messenger hawk an accusatory glare, as if it was somehow responsible for her reaction. The bird just stared back unflinchingly and Tsunade sighed, glancing back at the letter.

“Shizune!” she called, and her assistant scurried to her side.

“Yes, Tsunade-sama?”

The Godaime thrust the letter at her assistant, a scowl on her face. “Read it, then tell me what it says.” She ordered.

Confused, but already used to her shishou’s moods, Shizune obliged, her eyes widening. “The Mizukage has agreed to the treaty you proposed, Tsunade-sama! That’s great!” when Tsunade’s scowl didn’t fade, Shizune kept reading. “She asks if some of the terms can be modified slightly as per her Elders’ request, but she’s very happy for the treaty to be in effect immediately. She also says…” Shizune frowned as she kept reading, her eyes growing ever wider. “She also says that she’s been very impressed by our chunin’s conduct, that Haruno-chan has been very persuasive in her arguments while Nara-kun has a real future as a diplomat with his acute understanding of how to diffuse tension. Tsunade-sama, this is incredible!” Shizune enthused, but her mentor’s scowl only grew.

“It wasn’t _supposed_ to be great!” she snapped. “I meant to send them on a mission way out of their depth so they’d taste failure early on, then send a couple of more experienced diplomats after Mei would inevitably kick them out of Kirigakure. I wasn’t _counting on them_ to _succeed.”_

Shizune gaped. “Tsunade-sama… you can’t possibly mean that.”

Tsunade sighed, pulling out a very familiar bottle. “If they get overconfident, they die.” She stated bluntly, pouring the alcohol into her cup. “The sooner they learn that they’re not infallible, the longer they’ll live.”

The Godaime could see how her assistant struggled to process that, how she clearly did not like her train of thought, but prolonged exposure to her mentor’s moods had long ago taught Shizune when to drop a subject. “Are you going to respond?” she asked at last, at which Tsunade snorted and waved her off.

“I may not like it, but I’m not going to let this opportunity pass. The more allies Konohagakure gains, the safer she’ll be.” She replied and pulled out some paper and the official Hokage stamp. “Now off you go, I’ve got a treaty to rewrite.”

Shizune obligingly stepped out of the office, trying to ignore the soft thud of Tsunade’s forehead impacting the desk that followed her out.

* * *

 

Genma _spat out_ his sake.

Aoba, who was sat opposite him and therefore in the direct line of fire barely managed to dodge but still ended up getting some of the spray on him, resulting in some very colourful insults being directed Genma’s way. The terrified teen from the Genin Corps who brought him the letter made a strangled squeak and promptly shunshin’ed away.

“Genma?” Raidou asked, concerned. “What happened?”

Genma’s eyes scanned the text one more time before wordlessly shoving it in the direction of Raidou and Iwashi while he mulled it over.

_Hey Genma-san!_

_Just writing to tell you that I’m still alive! It took us four days to get to the Land of Water and one more till we got in Kiri itself. We’ve only been in Mist for two days, but Shikamaru and I have already been shopping and sightseeing so much that our legs nearly fell off. We also got positive confirmation from Mizukage-sama that she agrees to the treaty we proposed. That’s great, right? Mizukage-sama also said that it’ll be at least another two to three weeks before we’re able to return home, but I really don’t mind - Mist is_ wet _and my hair hates the humidity, but it’s exactly what I needed. _

_Hope everything is going well on your end,_

_Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone,_

_-Sakura_

Raidou raised his eyes from the paper and stared at Genma in disbelief. “She got sent on a _diplomatic mission to Kiri_ as her first mission as chunin?” he asked incredulously.

But Iwashi was grinning. “Forget that, she was _successful.”_ He also looked up, meeting Genma’s long-suffering glare. “I’ve got no idea where you found her, Genma, but make sure she sticks around.”

Genma merely sighed again and shoved the letter into his pocket. “I’ll go prematurely grey if she sticks around, Iwashi.”

At last, Aoba had recovered from being sprayed with sake. “Oh, is this the little chick that our very own mother hen has taken under her wing?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows and getting Genma’s favourite finger flashed at him in response. “Don’t pretend as if we haven’t noticed you sulking over the last week like you’ve got separation anxiety worthy of some helicopter parent.” He snorted.

Iwashi sighed, sharing an exasperated look with Raidou. “And he still wonders why so many people want to kick him where it hurts.” He murmured, drawing a snort from the tokujo while he subtly edged away from Aoba. And not a moment too soon, for just as Iwashi got out of the way, Genma vaulted over the table and tackled Aoba out of his seat, throwing insults back and forth. “If that’s who Sakura-san will have as her role model, heaven only knows how she’ll turn out.”

* * *

 

Sakura sneezed, drawing a concerned glance from Chōjūrō but she waved him off.

A week had passed since her conversation with the Mizukage and Sakura had spent nearly every day of that week with the bluenette. They sparred, talked about books and their adventures so far. The only break in the routine came about two weeks into Sakura’s stay in the form of one of the ANBU who’d been on the boat with her – Yuki-san. Sakura could see Chōjūrō’s worry when the raven unceremoniously seized her wrist and dragged her to the training grounds, but the rosette remembered their conversation on the boat, so she merely settled into her stance, summoned her daito and beckoned. Yuki-san smirked, unsheathed the two swords that crossed over his back and jumped at her.

Working with Chōjūrō for hours every day had allowed Sakura to gradually get used to focusing on only one person, and it brought one more issue to the forefront of her mind – her lacking speed. Whereas with Chōjūrō she could get away with dodging and employing the same barely-there method she’d used against Temari, Yuki-san was on another level entirely. She struggled to keep up, and the man was a blur of colour to her eyes more often than not. Finally, Sakura got annoyed and, deciding that no rules as such had been laid out, she began layering a genjutsu over the area.

A little bit at a time, layer by layer, but after about ten minutes she managed to distort reality enough that she snuck under Yuki-san’s guard. Only his senses saved him from getting the hilt of Sakura’s blade to the chin, a sensitivity no doubt born out of years of experience in the field. He jumped back, shut his eyes and murmured ‘kai!’ but when he opened his eyes, rather than angry, he looked _predatory_ and Sakura felt a chill run down her spine.

“Good.” He commented, and Sakura suddenly felt _afraid._ “I didn’t notice the optical illusion at all.” Then he was behind her, and the rosette had no time to react, feeling frozen in place, defenseless, _vulnerable_. But instead of decapitating her like Sakura knew he was more than able to, Yuki-san gently lifted a lock of her hair to his face and sniffed. “But your shampoo gave you away. Strawberry, I believe?”

Sakura blinked. Awed or horrified, she couldn’t quite decide, but the fact of the matter remained that this man had _sensed her_ by the smell of her _shampoo._

“When you create illusions, you have to ensnare every sense.” Yuki whispered into her ear, the basic rules of propriety and personal space seemingly lost on him. “The art of tricking the mind is a gruesome one: you have to live in your illusions, you have to _believe them_ just as much as you want your enemies to believe them. Sometimes that might mean spending hours with your hand against the bark of a tree, trying to replicate its texture, and sometimes it might mean learning the smell of blood and how the artery gushes when you slit open somebody’s throat.” When Sakura shuddered, repulsion and fear warring within her, Yuki-san laughed and stepped back, letting Chōjūrō rush to her while he faded into the mist, only his voice echoing in the clearing. “I’ll be interested to see what you become, little leaf, when somebody finally makes you let go of those last strands of morality you cling to. Well fought.”

And then he was gone.

“S-Sakura-san!” it took Sakura a moment to realise that the only thing holding her up was Chōjūrō’s arm around her waist. “Do you want t-to got to h-hospital? You’re awfully pale.”

The rosette shook her head, not realising how cold she’d been until warmth came rushing back in, making her feel like she was shaking off a layer of snow. It wasn’t a _natural_ reaction, that much she was sure of. “What was that?” she finally croaked out, grateful that Chōjūrō seemed to clock on immediately.

What she didn’t expect was for the bluenette to scowl and glare at where Yuki-san had once been standing with the angriest expression she’d seen on him in their fortnight of acquaintance. “That was Yuki-san’s personal brand of killing intent.” He told her, scowl never fading. “I should report him to Mei-sama, that was unbecoming of him to get so-”

“-don’t, Chōjūrō-san.” Sakura interrupted, testing her balance even though Chōjūrō’s hand did not leave her waist. “I provoked such a reaction with my admittedly underhanded tactic. It was well within Yuki-san’s right to respond as he did.”

To her surprise, Chōjūrō remained unimpressed. “Yuki-san is a hunter-nin, Sakura-san.” He told her, surprisingly viciously and Sakura had a sudden ‘lightbulb moment’, thinking back to why Ao had seemed familiar to her when she first met him. _He was dressed the same as Haku._ “He should not have been caught in your technique in the first place, and even then, such a strong reaction should have been conditioned out of him long ago.”

For once, the rosette had no problem with linking _Chōjūrō_ to _shinobi_ in her mind. He seemed to ooze frosty disapproval and anger, though at what, Sakura didn’t know. Still, she felt responsible and took it upon herself to diffuse the sudden tension. She stood, stumbling only a little, and hooked her arm through Chōjūrō’s, leading him away from the training grounds and trying to ignore how cold sweat made her shirt stick to her back.

“How about desert? I’m calling for ice-cream, my treat!”

* * *

 

It was another four days till Tsunade’s response came through and Sakura and Shikamaru were summoned to the Mizukage’s office.

“Well, it looks like this is it.” Mei greeted them, Chōjūrō and Ao standing guard by the door. “Your Hokage sent back an updated treaty that pleases both parties. There are also plans in place for a graduate exchange program to strengthen inter-Village relations, but for now, we’ll concern ourselves with lowering the number of people who react negatively to the notion of the alliance.”

Sakura grinned. “You could always tell those who are the most against the treaty that this is merely a ploy on your part, that you’re merely stringing us along and waiting until we provide the funding necessary to rebuild your economy and assure them that you’ll turn your back on us once that’s done.” She valiantly ignored Shikamaru’s put-upon sigh and counted Ao’s wide eyes as a personal victory. “That way, if Kiri-nin ever encounter Konoha-nin during a mission, they’ll be more inclined to behave civilly even if they despise us, simply under the guise of maintaining the farce.” When silence followed her words, Sakura shrugged. “Just a suggestion.”

Then, the Mizukage laughed as if it was startled out of her, shoulders shaking as a snort escaped her. “I can freely admit I’ve never heard _that one_ before.” She took a deep breath to steady herself and shot Sakura a grin. “You rarely get shinobi who _advise_ you to pretend sabotage. What caused such an out-there idea?”

Again, Sakura shrugged. She’s had a long time to consider _why_ she was so hell-bent on the idea of having the treaty in the first place, and admitting her motivations stopped bothering her quite soon afterwards. “I’ve never been in a war. I don’t know what that’s like. But the recent Invasion was enough of a taster for me to know that I want to avoid the real thing if at all possible, and I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that it _is_ possible. Besides, as long as you and Tsunade-sama would know that the treaty is not a ploy, what’s a little white lie here and there?”

And in the silence that followed, Sakura had a brief moment of self-awareness when she realised how her Academy self would sooner die than admit what she had just said – the idea of lying was still not her favourite way of resolving or preventing conflict, but her current self had something the Sakura of the Academy times didn’t – she had _perspective._

People change after they experience loss, and losing her parents and nearly losing her entire _Village_ to the ideals of a madman had been enough to alter the way Sakura viewed the world. Though, judging by Shikamaru’s slightly stupefied expression, only Genma-san was aware of the full extent those changes ran to. _Oh well. That’s an issue for another time._

She tuned back in and realised the Mizukage was regarding her intently, and the rosette subconsciously straightened her back. “I’ll keep your suggestion as a worst-case scenario, how about that, Haruno-chan?” Mei murmured, then smiled. “Well, in any case, your stay in my Village is nearing its end. I hope you’ve had an enjoyable time and, again, congratulations on your exceptional conduct on your first mission as chunin. If there’s anything you need for the return journey, we’ll happily provide it.”

Sakura nodded and Shikamaru inclined his head to the kage. “We are grateful for your aid, Mei-sama. Thank you for the offer.”

Mei smiled, and Sakura inwardly despaired that she would never fall into the same category of _femme-fatale_ as the brunette seemed to pull off so effortlessly. “It was certainly an experience to have you here. I do hope you can visit soon.”

And with that, they were dismissed.

Once all their bags have been packed and all their belongings sealed into various scrolls, Sakura surveyed the apartment that had become their home over the last three odd weeks. “How do you feel about going back?” she asked as Shikamaru finally emerged from his bedroom, his pack slung over his shoulder.

The Nara shrugged. “I miss Konoha’s clouds.” He replied vaguely, but Sakura had enough experience interpreting vague communications to see through it clearly.

She laughed. “It _is_ difficult to perform your favourite past-time when it’s almost constantly raining, isn’t it?” she teased, slinging her own pack over her back and fastening her cloak.

“How about you?” Shikamaru turned the question back on her, so Sakura mirrored his response and shrugged.

“I suppose I will miss Chōjūrō-san a bit, but I really am a bit homesick. It’ll be nice to see Genma-san again, or have dinner with the Terrible Twins.” Neither of them mentioned how Sakura didn’t say anything about Team 7. Shikamaru had since learned that it was a touchy subject, and the rosette simply had nothing to say.

A knock on their door cut the subject short, and Sakura smiled when her eyes met Chōjūrō’s on the other side of the door and she nodded to Ao as well. “Last time you’re picking us up, hm?” she teased lightly, nudging the blunette in the ribs with her elbow.

“Indeed.” He nodded, looking a bit sad. “Mei-sama r-requested we escort y-you to the gates.”

“Mmhm.” Sakura acknowledged, then lapsed into silence, falling into step with Chōjūrō while Shikamaru walked on her other side. When they reached the gates, the rosette was not surprised to see the familiar figure of Yuki-san and his partner and she nodded respectfully, ignoring how Chōjūrō stiffened beside her. When their group came to a stop, Sakura gave in to the urge that had been plaguing her for the length of their walk and threw her arms around Chōjūrō’s neck, hugging him. The teen froze for a second, whether at the contact or the wolf-whistle from Yuki-san that accompanied it, but after a moment, his hand came up to tentatively pat at her back.

When she drew back, Sakura offered the bluenette a small smile. “Keep in touch?” she asked. “I promise that I’m an excellent pen-pal.”

And when she got a small but genuine smile in response, and a slight nod, Sakura counted her stay in Kiri a success, treaty be damned.

“Take care, Chōjūrō-kun.” And she turned on her heel and walked over to Yuki-san, and away from the Village, not giving the bluenette a chance to reflect on the sudden change of honorific. She could hear Shikamaru giving his own stilted goodbyes to their escorts before he caught up with her, huffing exasperatedly.

“Did you _have_ to leave it like that?” he grouched. “He looked shell-shocked.”

Sakura sent him a devious smirk. “Better he get used to it now than when puberty hits properly and he has girls doing that to him every day.”

Shikamaru sent her an incredulous look before he snorted. “ _Troublesome women,_ you and Ino both.” He grumbled, but Sakura’s raised eyebrow put an end to any more whining.

The boat ride back to mainland was strangely uneventful, Shikamaru seemed to mull over something while Sakura chose that as an appropriate moment to whip out one of her books and start to read.

She absently noted that Yuki-san began scribbling furiously the second he noted the title of her book, but she dismissed it. Until, that is, they were saying farewell and, when shaking her hand, she felt Yuki-san press a scrunched up piece of paper into her hand. She sent him a curious look but he shook his head minutely and gestured at his sullen partner who was staring at them suspiciously.

‘Apologies?’ Yuki-san mouthed to her, and Sakura smiled and nodded, hiding the paper in her pocket.

“Thank you for escorting us.” She chorused with Shikamaru, bowed, and turned on her heel and ran back towards the path they came from almost a month ago, Shikamaru falling in step with her with every leap.

It took over four days for the red gates of Konoha to come into view, but when Sakura and Shikamaru were finally admitted into the Hokage’s office, it was not to a warm welcome and a ‘well-done’ but to a sour-faced Godaime and her twitchy assistant.

Tsunade levelled them with a flat stare. “Uchiha Sasuke has defected to Otogakure.”

Sakura felt her insides freeze, her world tilting on its axis but Tsunade barreled on, unconcerned for the impact of her words. “I’ve sent a retrieval squad after him, but they lack a leader. They left two hours ago. Nara, you can still catch up to them if you leave now. Ideally this would be an A-Rank for the ANBU tracker division, but we’re painfully understaffed and the Elders want action _now_ so I’ve been forced to shift that responsibility onto four genin.” Then, the Hokage’s resolve seemed to crumble before their very eyes. “I just- make sure nobody dies?” she directed her plea at Shikamaru, who seemed too shell-shocked to respond so Sakura took over.

“Tsunade-sama, I could-!”

But she was interrupted by a figure leaping through the window and kneeling in front of Tsunade’s desk. “Tsunade-sama, my apologies, but there’s been an incident! The group we believe to be the Sound Four attacked my team. Genma and Raidou are out of it and in critical condition and Shizune has too little chakra left to stabilise them both. It’s about a third of the way to the Valley of the End, not far at all but please, Tsunade-sama, we need assistance-!”

Tsunade’s eyes hardened and she turned to address the chunin before her, “Haruno, go to the Jounin HQ and see if anyone can be spar- huh?”

The Hokage looked around her office, flickering from Iwashi to Shikamaru and searching for the rosette.

But Sakura was long gone.


	8. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaaand I apologise for the awful cliffhanger, but well, it fit ;)  
> psa: at the end, it says 'partner' - I want to clarify, I mean 'mission partner' not of the romantic type. because... just no.   
> thank you to everyone who supported this so far, ily <3

Sakura ran out of the Village gates like the devil himself was on her heels. 

 

She zoomed past the gate guards, absently noting that her favourite chunin duo had been replaced, two unfamiliar women were in their place instead. Then she was bounding through the forests in the direction of the Valley of the End, not a care in the world for how much chakra she was expending as the mantra in her head drowned out every other sound and thought apart from the frantic beat of her heart and _not Genma-san please not Genma-san no no no please -!_

 

She cast out her senses and stayed alert for Genma-san's familiar chakra signature as she ran, hoping against hope that she was not too late.

 

Not twenty minutes later, she sensed it. It was weak, so weak in fact, that she would've missed it entirely had she not had all her concentration focused on finding it. She quickly changed course, barrelling towards the area her senses were leading her to, feeling the hints of exhaustion start to seep into her bones. She almost tripped over Shizune when she stumbled into the field, then froze when the extent of the damage done to the clearing finally registered in her mind.

 

"Haruno-san?" Shizune enquired, puzzled, no doubt noting the pinkette's haggard appearance. "Do you know if Tsunade-sama is sending back-up?"

 

Sakura grinned wryly. "Sorry, Shizune-san - as far as I'm aware, I _am_ your back-up."

 

Shizune's eyes widened briefly but she composed herself surprisingly quickly and nodded. "I stabilised them as much as I could before I ran out of chakra, but it'll all be for moot if they don't get proper medical attention soon. I trust you can carry one of them?" she asked Sakura then glanced towards the girl and did a double-take. The pinkette had already hefted Genma's still form of the ground and gently draped him across her back, fitting his limp arms around her neck and grabbing his thighs, all the while careful of the still bleeding wound in his stomach and seemingly uncaring for the steadily growing stain on her brand new chunin jacket. 

 

"I'm good to go, Shizune-san." Sakura announced, letting go of Genma's thigh and digging through her pocket for what Shizune belatedly realised was a soldier pill, which she quickly shoved in her mouth. 

 

Shizune snapped herself out of her daze and did much the same to Raidou, channelling chakra through her muscles to lift the large jounin. She briefly noted that the rosette had moved her backpack so it was on her chest in order to make room for Genma, and she finally realised why the girl's appearance had surprised her so in the first place. 

 

"How did the mission in Kiri go, Sakura-san?" she asked as they started running back, getting a wry grin in response. 

 

"It went great! Shikamaru and I actually only got back about an hour ago - we were about to report but then Iwashi-san came in and, well. I might've ran away the second I heard where he left you." the girl winced, as if she only just realised what her actions could imply. "I really hope they don't mark me down as missing-nin..." she trailed off and glanced back at Genma's unconscious form on her back, then shrugged delicately so as not to jostle the jounin."Eh, even if they do, it'd have been worth it."

 

Shizune was struck by the honesty in the pinkette's words and the easy admission. "I... I was not aware Genma had a daughter." she stammered, eliciting a bark of startled laughter from the teen.

 

"A _daughter_?!" she parroted incredulously. "Oh, Kami, that's precious." she laughed, and Shizune flushed and was about to apologise before the girl sobered up. "No, Genma-san is not my father, oh no. He's... my guardian, though he is probably the closest to a parental figure I have left." then, her eyes sharpened and she glared at the trees in front of her as she added. "Which is why he's getting a serious ass-whooping as soon as he's stable; he should _know better_."

 

Shizune stared at the pinkette like she'd grown a second head. Despite the anger in her eyes, her voice had wobbled towards the end and the brunette realised too late that the real reason behind the girl's appearance, all her bravado and tough words was because she was _terrified_. She was worried for Genma's wellbeing, so much so that she'd risked being branded a missing-nin to ensure his safety. Shizune couldn't really say she knew the rosette enough to make valid judgements, but she struggled to piece together the circumstances of how the personalities of the Shiranui Genma _she_ knew and what little she could recall about Haruno Sakura could have come together and formed such an obviously strong bond. 

 

But she didn't have much time to dwell over the new side to the tokujo she thought she'd had figured out, as the Main Gates of Konoha came into view and the rosette beside her sped up, dashing past the gate guards with nary a glance on her way to the Hospital. 

 

Shizune cursed and struggled to keep up, barrelling into the hospital a few seconds behind Sakura, and she nearly staggered with relief when she saw that Tsunade-sama was already there, snapping at nurses and interns alike to take the unconscious tokujo off the rosette and to ICU, then directing them to do the same for Shizune. 

 

Tsunade's stern gaze moved onto the pinkette, ready to berate her before her eyes widened in alarm. Sakura swayed, staggered, and would've fallen had the Godaime not dashed forward at the last second. "Chakra exhaustion." the Hokage pronounced wryly, gesturing for one of the nurses to take the girl away. "Seems like she's safe from an ass-whooping for another few hours."

 

Shizune winced and pitied the girl when d she woke up. Tsunade's wrath was never fun to endure, especially not with the standard headache brought on by chakra exhaustion. 

 

* * *

 

When Sakura came to, she got to know the real reason why Tsunade’s bedside manner was rarely spoken of – she had none. Sakura had barely managed to pry her eyes open before the nurse hustled out of her room and came back with a very angry Tsunade, who informed her brusquely that the retrieval mission failed but Genma was set to make full recovery. The rosette didn’t have any time to wonder how that made her feel before the Godaime launched into full lecture mode and gleefully informed her that she’d have a month of D-Ranks waiting for her which would hopefully ‘convince her to think before being an idiot again, goddamnit kid, I was going to send someone to get them!’.

 

That was far from a pleasant experience.

 

Then Naruto came into her room, sullen and depressed, looking for all intents and purposes like a kicked puppy and Sakura suddenly remembered what she’d heard before she ran off to save Genma-san.

 

_The Uchiha defected._

 

Amidst the anger that the memory stirred up, Sakura had the presence of mind to briefly wonder when the way she referred to him changed from _Sasuke-kun_ to _Sasuke_ and now to _the Uchiha._ She decided thinking about it gave her a headache so she instead focused on the much easier emotion to deal with – anger. Why was she so angry though?

 

_OrochimaruparentskilledOrochimaruUchiha **willingly** -!_

 

 _Ah,_ she thought wryly, _that’s why. Well, I hope he rots in hell._

 

And she was slightly surprised by how much she _genuinely_ wished that Sasuke would meet his unfortunate end prematurely. She’d never been prone to such angry, bitter, vengeful feelings before, but if there was one thing she hated more than the murderous Snake Sannin, it was somebody who willingly _chose to join him._

 

“I’m sorry, Sakura-chan.” Naruto’s voice broke her out of her reverie. “I couldn’t bring him back to us.”

 

“Naruto…” Sakura sighed, wondering how to phrase ‘you’re an idiot’ in a way that was a little… less blunt. “Did you think that, perhaps… it wasn’t up to you to bring him back?”

 

It must’ve been the wrong thing to say, because the blond immediately jumped back to life. “But Tsunade-baachan was the one who sent us after him, and I trained with Pervy Sage just so I could be equal with Sasuke-teme and I could’ve gotten him, I would’ve, but then he got some weird stripes on him and-!”

 

“Naruto!” Sakura interrupted the tirade, running a hand through her hair. “That wasn’t what I meant.” She reassured him. When he let out a small ‘oh’ and quietened down, she continued. “I meant more like… from what I know, Sasuke defected out of his own volition. So, I guess what I wanted to say is, what made you think he wouldn’t just leave again, even after you brought him back?”

 

Naruto stared at her aghast, as if unable to believe what she’d just said. “Sasuke wouldn’t do that! I know him, he wouldn’t-!”

 

“He left once already didn’t he?!” Sakura snapped, letting her anger flare. “He made his choice, Naruto! And if you knew him so well then why didn’t you stop him?!”

 

Deep down, she knew she was being unfair, but Naruto’s blind optimism had been the last straw. “I lost my parents to Orochimaru, Naruto! They were killed in his invasion, helpless! I nearly lost the only man who’d ever cared about me, who gave a damn about my progress to his followers! Don’t you understand?! I don’t care whether Sasuke would or wouldn’t! I can’t forgive him for leaving us for _Orochimaru_!”

 

Naruto paled and grew oddly quiet, only his eyes growing wide. “Y-your parents are…?”

 

Now it was Sakura’s turn to gape. “Sensei… Sensei didn’t tell you?” she asked incredulously, growing ever angrier when Naruto shook his head.

 

“No, Sakura-chan.” He denied. “I’m… I’m so sorry. I d-didn’t know, Sakura-chan, I can’t believe-!” he broke off, sniffling suspiciously. Sakura slid off her bed, pulling out the IV needle and wrapping her arms around her teammate.

 

“It’s alright.” She replied, feeling weirdly as if it were _Naruto’s_ parents who’d died. “I haven’t made my peace with it, not yet, but I’ll get there.” She paused, reconsidered. “I’ll get there, but I can’t forgive Sasuke for what he’s done. If you want to save him, bring him back and get him cleared of all charges, you’re going to have to do it alone. I’m afraid that if I were to try to bring him back now, I’d hurt him. And then you’d never forgive me.”

 

To her surprise, the blond chuckled. “I’d always forgive you, Sakura-chan.” He murmured, and Sakura felt oddly uncomfortable, but she kept her arms wound around him.

 

“Then you’re much too good for me, always have been.” She added after a thought hit her. She drew back but kept her hands on Naruto’s shoulders, keeping him at arms’ length. “I’ve been awful to you, Naruto, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took me getting scared in Mist to even _acknowledge_ that you were my teammate, and I’m sorry it took our team breaking apart for me to realise that I’ve been treating you like trash almost since I’ve known you.”

 

It took her a moment to realise that Naruto was fully crying this time, tears streaming down his cheeks. “S-Sakura-chan…” he mumbled, his eyes wide. “I’ll go train with pervy Sage then I’ll c-come back and we’ll both bring back Sasuke-teme and make him regret ever leaving, how’s that sound?” he proposed, and Sakura smiled.

 

“I hope you realise I won’t just be killing time waiting for you to get back. I’ll get better too.” She replied, getting a matching, if wobbly smile from Naruto.

 

“Of course. I saw your fight in the Exams, Sakura-chan. That was not something just _anybody_ could do, y’know.” And suddenly, Sakura felt lighter than she’d felt in _weeks._

 

Acknowledgement. She finally earned it.

 

“Yeah,” she murmured. “I know. Just like I know that just _anybody_ couldn’t pull of the Yondaime’s Rasengan.”

 

Naruto brightened, his grin blinding. “Good luck, Sakura-chan.” He replied, pulling back.

 

“To you too, Naruto.” She grinned, leading him out of her hospital room, hospital gown, bare feet and all. “Let’s prove them wrong, hm?”

 

“You bet, Sakura-chan.”

 

Now Sakura had a certain tokujo to find, and an ass-whooping to deliver.

* * *

 

Genma groaned as he regained consciousness, feeling like he'd slept for _years_ if the stiffness of his muscles and how crusty his eyes were as he cracked them open was any indication.

 

He decided to rejoin the world of the living and propped himself up on his elbows, idly registering that he was in a hospital of all places, and two people who looked very much like Raidou and Iwashi were sat around the other bed in his room. He didn't get to do much more than that before a sharp pain erupted in his head and his gaze snapped to the right, only to be met with furious emerald eyes and a still-raised hand. "What were you _thinking_?" Sakura screeched at him, her voice at a volume that made him wince. 

 

"Kid?" he asked incredulously. "What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be in Mist?"

 

But she wasn't placated and, if anything, the anger in her eyes only grew, even if her cheeks looked suspiciously damp. "Did you not get the memo?" she snapped. "You don't get to ask questions when I'm yelling at you!"

 

Genma thought he heard a snort from the other end of the room but he was much too thrown by the teen's words to bother confirming. "You're yelling at me?" he parroted dumbly. "What for?"

 

"Yes, I'm yelling at you!" the rosette threw her arms into the air, clearly exasperated before the anger resurfaced. "Now that you're back with the programme, lemme ask you again, _what were you thinking_?!" when Genma remained silent, the rosette felt justified to continue viciously. "That's right, you _weren't_! You clearly _weren't_ thinking straight, otherwise what could've _possibly_ possessed you to engage _four_ of Orochimaru's experiments, not only clearly outnumbered but with no viable backup in sight? Not only that, but Namiashi-san tells me that you jumped in front of one of the attacks heading for him! Since when did you decide to throw your life away, huh, Genma?" 

 

And Genma suddenly felt his own irritation building, so much so that he didn't even notice the lack of the honorific. "Since I'm a _grown-ass adult_ , kid, and I can make these sort of decisions." he snapped. "Besides, Raidou and his wife are expecting a _child_. I could not live with myself if I was the reason why his son had to grow up without his _father_." he added, feeling a vicious tingle of satisfaction when Sakura winced. 

 

And then, all the fight went out of her and she slumped in the hospital chair, letting her forehead _thunk_ softly against Genma's blanket-covered thigh. "I know." she murmured softly, her voice thick with tears. "Kami _, I know_ , it's just- you're the only family I have left, Genma." she raised her head from the bed and the tokujo was startled to see tears trailing down her cheeks, and the look in her eyes was so broken Genma felt his heart clench painfully. "I-!" she hiccoughed, "I c-can't afford to lose you too, not so soon after- after-!" she did not get to finish her sentence as she dropped her head onto her folded arms and dissolved into sobs, which, although silent, seemed to shake her thin frame almost painfully. 

 

And, suddenly, Genma felt like a _right asshole._

 

Absently, he realised that he could no longer hear the quiet chatter from Iwashi and Raidou, but he did not stop to think what that could mean. Instead, he propped himself higher on his elbows and reached carefully to pat Sakura’s hair, combing his fingers through it gently and waiting for her sobs to subside slightly before he attempted speaking again. 

 

"Hey, hey, kid, look at me." he murmured, smiling fondly when Sakura shook her head, _no_ , and made no move to look up. "No, Sakura, c'mon, I want to tell you something." he urged, feeling her tense slightly at the use of her given name before one emerald eye hesitantly peeked at him from above her folded arms. "I'm sorry, I was an asshole." he admitted, still combing his fingers through her hair. He thought he heard a muttered 'damn right you were' from behind him, but he paid it no mind. "It's just- truth is, I haven't had anyone worry about my wellbeing like that for a while. I kind of- _forgot_ how to react to it. Properly, I mean. That's not to say I haven't had anyone care when I landed in a hospital!" he hastened to assure her when the emerald eye widened in alarm. "Obviously I had people come in and wish me to get better whenever I ended up here, but I- I'm not _it_ , for anybody, y’know? I'm not a husband or a father or a teacher-" at her grunt, he rolled his eyes fondly and lightly tugged at her hair, "or, rather, I _wasn't_. And I sometimes forget that I suddenly _am_ , that someone actually depends and relies on me for something _more_ than just delivering that package here or killing that guy there. And- I'm still getting used to that." he paused, cleared his throat and met that lone green eye head-on. "So, I'm sorry, for forgetting about that. I'm not promising I'll stop, because given the chance, I'd still jump in front of that kunai, but I'll be more understanding of any future ass-whoopings when I do, inevitably, end up in the hospital." 

 

After a few seconds too long, Sakura's head finally peaked out from the safety of her arms. "You really suck at monologuing, Genma-san." she grumbled, and her voice was scratchy, her cheeks were splotchy and her nose was running, but there was a sparkle in her eye and the barest of grins on her lips, and Genma felt an answering grin bloom on his face. He felt justified to use pain meds as his excuse for what slipped out of his mouth next; “Call me Genma.” He blurted, shuffling slightly on the bed to make room for the pinkette and opening his arms wide. “And goddamnit, come here, I want a hug.” He grouched, at which Sakura snorted and raised an eyebrow.

 

“I thought we ‘weren’t that close’?” she teased, and Genma couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad that she used his own words against him.

 

“Shut up, we are now, so get a move on ‘cause my arm is starting to cramp.” He ordered, and the rosette laughed but didn’t hesitate to clamber up on the bed and burrow her face into his chest, and it was only then that Genma noticed that Sakura was also clad in the uncomfortable, scratchy material of a hospital gown.

 

“I understand that I’ve been out of it, but why do _you_ have to suffer through this monstrosity?” he asked curiously, poking her side in an attempt to make his point clearer.

 

Sakura twitched, clearly ticklish, but didn’t even attempt to move from her position. “It’s a long story.” She answered vaguely, then Genma thought he heard her snort. “I’ve got a month of D-Ranks to show for it though.”

 

And despite the fact that her words only raised more questions than answers, Genma dismissed them for a moment and merely tightened his arm around the rosette’s side, content for the time being to let sleep take him back into its arms.

* * *

 

 Sakura woke up a few hours later and struggled to extract herself from Genma’s clutches without waking the man. Somehow, over the course of their nap, the tokujo had managed to wrap both arms around her and lace his fingers behind her back, making escape nigh impossible.

 

She heard a chuckle from behind her and craned her neck to see Iwashi-san and Namiashi-san sitting on the other bed, watching her progress with amusement. “Need some help?” Iwashi offered, and Sakura nodded, smiling gratefully.

 

“If you wouldn’t mind.” She replied, wiggling. “I don’t want to wake him but I need to go do my rounds.” She added, sighing in relief when Iwashi got up to help her detangle herself.

 

“You _do_ know the idiot will probably want to be caught up on all that he missed?” the chunin asked her faux-casually, tugging her free of Genma’s arms and onto her feet. “Which _will_ probably include your involvement and what you, ah, sacrificed to save his stupid ass.”

 

At that, Sakura winced but shrugged. “Which is why I’m going to make sure I’m not here when that happens. Honestly, I don’t _care_ about what I had to ‘sacrifice’ as you put it,” she explained, scowling when the issue of the Uchiha made itself known in her mind, “and I would do it all again in a heartbeat, should the need present itself. But… I’m just not sure I want to be here and see Genma’s reaction when he finds out. We’re…” she trailed off, unsure how to put it.

 

“’Not that close’?” Raidou offered, inserting himself into the conversation and making Sakura grin wryly.

 

“Yeah, something like that.” She acknowledged, nodding at the scarred man gratefully, but he just waved her off.

 

“If I may, Sakura-san,” Iwashi interrupted, smiling as if he knew something she didn’t. “I’ve known Genma for over ten years. Raidou’s known him even longer. It’s pretty clear to us, after seeing the two of you together, that you and Genma are the only ones who think that way.”

 

Sakura took a moment to digest what Iwashi meant then shook her head and politely excused herself. Regardless if he was right or wrong, she had things to do. With that in mind, she left the hospital, grateful that someone had been kind enough to leave a very generic uniform by Genma’s bed that she quickly changed into. (she had to roll up the pants and sleeves multiple times but at least she could get away with that more than if she paraded down the street in a hospital gown)

 

She stopped by the Yamanaka flower shop then trekked back to the hospital, not wanting to be caught outside when she hasn’t been officially discharged yet. With the bouquets in hand and a quick smile to the receptionist, Sakura made her way to the first room on her list. Finding Hyuuga Neji’s room was easy, and the rosette walked in so deeply in thought that she did not notice she wasn’t its only occupant till after she’d arranged the flowers in the standard vase by his bedside. But when she did, Sakura nearly froze when she realised that Hyuuga Hiashi himself was in his nephew’s room with her.

 

Stifling the squeak of embarrassment that wanted to come out, Sakura instead let the years’ worth of lessons on etiquette and manners her mother had drilled into her take over as she sank into a shallow bow. "Hyuuga-sama, please accept my sincerest apologies for intruding. I only wanted to thank Hyuuga-san for his actions in retrieving the traitor and I was so set on that goal that I did not notice you." Sakura apologised to the Hyuuga patriarch.

 

She inwardly berated herself for not noticing the man, but she knew that it was merely because she was still reeling with relief that Genma really was okay and was set to making a full recovery that she had not even bothered to scan the room with her chakra before strutting over to Neji's bedside and placing a small bouquet in the vase.

 

She could _hear_ the Hyuuga's raised eyebrow before she straightened, but when she met his eyes, his face was back to its impassive façade. "I would have thought that as his teammate, you would have had something to say in the Uchiha's defence. Your other teammate and sensei certainly did." he spoke, and the clipped, even tones of a man raised as an aristocrat to whom all this was merely a distasteful joke washed over Sakura, bringing with them an urge to snap, the anger over the whole situation still far too recent a memory. 

 

She squared her shoulders and set her jaw, meeting the man's eyes in what she knew could've easily been interpreted as impudence. "Perhaps it's odd of me, but I do not defend _traitors_ , Hyuuga-sama." Sakura replied icily, and she could've sworn she saw the corner of the brunet's lips twitch upwards by the tiniest of margins, but she paid it no heed. "I lost my parents to Orochimaru's attack, and nearly lost my guardian to his cronies earlier this week. I realise that the Uchiha might not have known this, nor fully predicted the consequences of his actions, but in my heart, I cannot forgive anyone who willingly associates themselves with that _snake_ , who leaves their village behind like it never even _mattered_ in the first place." It was a real struggle to keep herself from shouting towards the end, but somehow, she managed it. With a deep breath, she steadied her frantic heart and met the man's eyes once again. "All I want to say on this matter is this: I'm sorry Hyuuga-san got in the middle of that affair. What I can do, however, is assure you that, should mine and Sasuke Uchiha's paths cross again, I _will_ bring him to justice." Sakura promised, her words echoing with the strength of her conviction. 

 

Again, she got a non-expression as her response, but almost a year of gauging Kakashi's moods from his one visible eye allowed her to glimpse _intrigue?_ in the Hiashi's pearlescent eyes.

 

"And how do you intend to do that?" he asked, and though his tone was as imperious as ever, Sakura could not help but feel like this was some kind of a _test_. 

 

So she chose honesty as her policy and let the Hyuuga in on what she had recently come to terms with herself. "By any and all means necessary." she stated calmly. 

 

She could sense that Hiashi was scrutinising her despite the fact that his expression didn't change. After what felt like an age but was probably only a few seconds, he nodded, turned on his heel and swept out of the corridor. 

 

Sakura almost deflated with relief once the tension she didn't even know she held in her shoulders eased a bit. She let a few seconds pass, then, with one last assessing look at the slumbering brunet, she deemed her duty done and moved on to the only other patient currently in ICU.

 

When she opened the door to Chouji's room, she was not surprised to find Shikamaru there. What did come as a bit of a surprise, however, was that Ino and the man she vaguely recalled was Shikamaru's sensei were also there. Sakura elected to ignore them for the moment, choosing instead to add the flowers she brought for Chouji to the already-filled vase. When she was done, she turned back round and met Shikamaru's knowing gaze. The Nara sent her a tired grin, and Sakura knew that, just as _she_ hadn't left Genma's bedside till she was sure he would be fine, Shikamaru was doing the same to Chouji. The only difference between them was that the Nara was in an even worse place than she was, because despite his clan’s intelligence and logical prowess, he still _blamed himself_ for his friend's condition.

 

"How is Shiranui-san?" the brunet asked casually, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. Sakura saw his sensei perk up at the name and briefly wondered if knew each other, but she dismissed it in favour of answering her friend. 

 

"He was asleep when I left just now, but he woke up about three hours ago." she informed the teen, getting a small smirk in response. 

 

"And how much did you yell at him when he woke up?" Shikamaru asked teasingly, and Sakura thought she heard Ino gasp but she ignored it. Truth be told, she was incredibly glad the Nara was _able_ to joke around again; the teen who came back from the Sasuke Retrieval mission, as it was now being dubbed, was but a shell of the Shikamaru Sakura had gotten to know over their month together and it pained her to see it. 

 

So she grinned wryly and waved him off. "A fair bit." she admitted easily. "But the idiot deserved it."

 

Shikamaru muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘troublesome woman’ but when he saw Sakura’s raised eyebrow, he shrugged.

 

“I mean, in all fairness, he did.” And the rosette nearly toppled out of her seat at the Nara’s easy agreement. “Anyone with eyes who spent two minutes with the two of you can see that you care about each other. And,” he reminded her mischievously, “it was only luck that you weren’t branded a missing-nin for essentially tearing out of Tsunade-sama’s office the second you knew where he was. Plus maybe the fact that she thought your reaction was hilarious.”

 

Sakura groaned and let her head thump on Shikamaru’s shoulder. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she accused, but there was no real heat behind it.

 

“Enjoying what? Ribbing you?” the Nara asked, but they both knew it was purely banter by now. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

 

They lapsed into silence after that, and the playful atmosphere that had built up over the past couple of minutes was replaced by solemn silence. Finally, Sakura sighed and murmured; “How are you feeling though?”

 

Shikamaru shrugged, jostling her slightly but she just shifted and settled her head more comfortably against his shoulder. “I thought about quitting it all for good, after we got back.” he admitted just as quietly, and it seemed like they’d both forgotten or elected to ignore the fact that they had an audience. “My old man had a right go at me as well. Told me that if I freak out every time my comrades get hurt I might as well forget about being a shinobi.” Sakura made an noise in the back of her throat, feeling indignant on Shikamaru’s behalf, which he must’ve sensed because he sighed and patted her arm lightly. “No, no, I needed that. I thought, _we aced a mission we were essentially doomed to fail,_ I basically thought myself invincible, and it wasn’t until I realised I would have to leave people behind to fight people who far outclassed them that it really hit me that this was different. I… I dunno, Sakura. We’ve both been granted some time off by Tsunade-sama, though yours is apparently gonna be spent doing D-Ranks for the headache you caused her, but I’m going to use mine to get back onto my feet. Rest, train maybe, see if dad has any idea what I should do…” he trailed off, and they lapsed into silence again. Sakura didn’t comment, merely sat by Shikamaru, knowing that the sheer process of admitting all that to himself, much less to another, was already helpful for the teen. She was not expecting him to ask, “And you? How are you dealing with the Uchiha?”

 

Sakura made a thoughtful noise and steadfastly ignored Ino’s eyes boring into the side of her head. “I dunno.” She finally replied, sighing. “I’m angry, that’s for sure. I also feel betrayed, though we were never really a team to begin with so I don’t know what there was to betray in the first place.” She barked a laugh at that, short and bitter and far too loud. “But mostly I just feel… disillusioned, I guess? Naruto wants to bring him back, he’s so _sure_ that he can save him, so _sure_ that we can be a team again. But we haven’t been a team since the Chunin Exams, and after thinking about it for far longer than I probably should have, I decided that I’m not sure if Sasuke _can be_ saved. Or even if he _wants_ to be.” She mulled over admitting something else and quieting the bitter, vengeful part of her mind that roared for revenge and _chaos,_ but she decided that it was still too soon to reveal her real thoughts about the Uchiha’s betrayal.

 

Shikamaru, however, didn’t seem to share her concerns. “You want to bring him home in a matchbox.” He stated flatly, casually, like it was a simple off-hand comment. Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“Yeah,” she admitted after she got a hold of herself, her breathing still irregular and tears streaming out of her eyes. “yeah, I do.” Not thinking much about what she was doing, she craned her head up on his shoulder and pecked his cheek. “Thanks, Shika!” she called as she jumped out and strutted out of the room, having decided to spare the nurse doing rounds the effort of looking for her round the whole hospital again.

 

Somehow, she already felt better.

* * *

 

Genma got his answers when he next came to, when he realised that his right side felt suspiciously cold. He cracked his eyes open, noting that Raidou and Iwashi had moved over to his bedside while he’d been asleep and Sakura was nowhere to be seen.

 

“And the princess awakes!” Iwashi crowed, poking Genma’s side with his elbow. Too out of it to really snap back, Genma merely scowled at him and turned to Raidou, eyebrow raised.

 

Reading the question in the gesture, his long-time partner grinned wryly. “She only left about an hour ago – said something about ‘doing her rounds’.”

 

Genma frowned, but Iwashi didn’t let him stew for long before he grinned and nudged him again. “Bet you’d like to know what happened while you’d been napping, huh?”

 

And what they told him made Genma feel even _more_ like an asshole for how he’d reacted to Sakura’s worry. Apparently, the weird barrel the Sound Four were carrying had contained Sasuke Uchiha, who as of four days ago had officially defected from Konohagakure to join _Orochimaru._ More than that, Genma learned that ‘his kid’ – which was how Iwashi had taken to referring to Sakura – had also risked being branded a missing-nin _herself_ in order to _save his ass_. She also apparently earned herself a nasty case of chakra exhaustion for her efforts, hence why she’d also been confined to the hospital while Genma was recovering. Suddenly, the kid’s comment about how ‘she’s got a month of D-Ranks to show for it’ made sense. But what got Genma the most was how she chose him to save, not her teammate, her _crush,_ the chance for her team to stay whole but _him._ He wondered, not for the first time, what on earth had possessed him to offer his help all those month ago when he saw her in the library. He’d already known, damn it, that he would get attached.

 

But he had no clue Sakura was equally attached to _him._

Most of the time, he just avoided thinking about it, because there was still that part of him that shied away from caring for others and having others care for him in return after what happened to Minato. But, if he really stopped to think about it, think about him and the pinkette, it made sense. _They_ made sense. He’d been unconsciously preparing himself for letting go of his best friend and long-time partner, since Raidou was going to retire from active duty for a while to raise his son. It was no surprise to him that he got attached so quickly to another, and the kid’s attitude and tactile nature certainly didn’t help him to stay aloof. And then Sakura, who, for all intents and purposes should’ve ditched his ass the second she got the help and attention she wanted and gone to find friends her own age. But the Sakura he’d gotten to know, the girl who’d been neglected by her parents, by her teacher, and outright shunned by her crush, chose to stay.

 

And it seemed that just as he was freaking out over her being gone and having a bad case of ‘helicopter parent’, she was just as unwilling for him to leave, even by his own idiocy.

 

He didn’t know how to feel about that.

 

Raidou made up his mind for him.

 

“I had no clue that the kid who came to you in the library would end up being such a big part of your life,” he began, and Genma snorted. _Talk about psychic,_ he thought snidely. “but keep her around.”

 

_Wait, what?_

His confusion must’ve shown on his face, because Raidou sighed while Iwashi smirked at him. “In ten minutes, she managed to get through your head something which we’ve been trying to tell you for _ten years._ And you _listened._ Not to mention, I can give an eyewitness’ testimony that your kid’s clearly capable, and she’s got her head screwed on right. I you don’t mess this up, you might even be able to ask her to be your partner while Raidou is busy being a daddy.”

 

… _what?_

“Wait,” he finally choked out, “hold up for just a second; what the _fuck?_ ”

 

“Language, Genma-san!” a new but familiar voice called from the door.

 

“Genma.” He shot back instinctively, only then realising what had actually been said. He turned all of his confusion and indignation at the pinkette, his eyebrow threatening to disappear into his hairline at the absurdity of the situation. “And since when did you become a mother?” he sniped, but the rosette didn’t even raise her gaze from the piece of paper she’d been studying, though she replied just as snappishly.

 

“Since you apparently require someone to mother you. Tokubetsu jounin _my ass._ ” She teased, and Genma felt his earlier disbelief start to fade away at the familiar banter.

 

_Partner? Suddenly it doesn’t seem that far-fetched…_

Then, he squinted and wrinkled his nose, his gaze going from the rosette to the empty chair by his bedside. “Are those _my clothes_?” he demanded incredulously, feeling laughter start to bubble up. Sakura glanced down at what she was wearing, not in the slightest embarrassed.

 

“They’re a lot more comfortable than the hospital gown, I’ll give you that.” She relied cheekily, winking at him before her gaze flickered back to what she was reading.

 

Genma heard Iwashi guffaw, but he just closed his eyes and counted to ten, deciding that changing the subject would be healthier for his blood pressure. “What are you reading?” he asked instead, and Sakura wandered over to him, nudging his thigh as she climbed onto his bed to lean against his side.

 

“Something Yuki-san gave me. I’ll need your help to work through it, if you’re willing.” She explained, though at his raised eyebrow she elaborated. “Yuki-san, our escort to Mist, also one of the Mizukage’s hunter-nin. He gave this to me as an apology present after I trapped him in a genjutsu and he then proceeded to scare the living daylights out of me.” She recited flatly, ignoring how Genma’s arm tightened around her shoulders or how Iwashi sucked in a sharp breath.

 

“A hunter-nin, you say?” Genma murmured, and Sakura could feel him stiffen so she slapped his arm lightly.

 

“Yes, but don’t freak out. He was a real sweetheart, really. A bit sadistic, maybe, but still miles better than Ao. And he _did_ give me some really good advice on genjutsu.” She added thoughtfully, unfolding the paper so Genma could see it too. “I almost forgot I had this till it feel out of my pocket when I went to collect my stuff to take it home. Haven’t had a chance to read it properly till I got here.”

 

They lapsed into silence as they tried to decipher the admittedly _awful_ handwriting on the page, but after a few seconds, Sakura gasped.

 

“Did he really-!” she snatched the paper out of Genma’s grasp and squinted at the small drawings of handseals and the explanations that accompanied them.

 

“What is it?” Raidou asked, to which Genma sighed and quirked a wry grin.

 

“Seems like the only way he knows how to apologise is by spilling Village secrets. Supplementary secrets, but nevertheless.” When his friends’ curious gazes turned worried, he chuckled and shook his head. “There’re the instructions for four techniques here - Hiding in Mist technique, Hiding in Water, Hiding in Drizzle and Hiding in Rain. They’re all D-Ranks or below but, well, they were exclusive to Kirigakure shinobi for decades.”

 

Raidou nodded thoughtfully. “I think Hatake can perform Hiding in Mist, but he copied it from someone so he doesn’t count. Other than that… if she can master them-“

 

“-when.” Sakura interrupted, drawing curious stares. “When I master them.” She corrected. “Water is my second element, so it’s only a matter of time. And I have a very patient and thorough instructor.” She sent Genma a teasing grin then buried her nose back in the instructions, lost in thought.

 

Genma felt warmth bloom in his stomach as he mulled over the issue that started it all.

 

_Partner? Sure._


	9. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the longer-than-average delay between updates, however, as school has started up again (the horror) I can only write when I am on top of all my work [and that is not often :( ] still, hope this chapter is worth the wait! thank you again for all the lovely comments and support!

The next month was relatively stress-free for Sakura. The promised D-Ranks came and went, as mind-numbingly boring as could be expected. The only highlight of the dull labour was the fact that she was doing the work intended for three genin by herself which meant that she also took home three genins' worth of pay. As such, she didn’t complain when she had to catch Tora the cat for the fifth time in the same week. Instead, she gritted her teeth, gave the beast back to its hysterical owner and treated herself to a well-deserved treat at her favourite umeboshi place. 

But what really made the missions worth it was what awaited Sakura once she finally got home: every evening, like clockwork, her and Genma would sit on the sofa, the coffee table between them, and play around with theories, techniques and, after a lot of nagging from Sakura's side, _fuinjutsu_. In those hours, the lines between mentor and mentee were at their most blurry as they both discovered new things, learned theories and techniques they never even knew existed. And, more than once, Sakura would nod off at around midnight, the warmth and comfort of the blanket she swathed herself in every evening lulling her to sleep, only to wake up in her own bed in the morning. Perhaps understandably, Sakura found that she looked forward to the evenings the most.

 About a week into her “punishment”, when Genma was finally fully recovered, Sakura asked him about the techniques gifted to her by Yuki-san. She discovered quite quickly that, much like when he was trying to teach her Earth Release, Genma believed in starting from the bottom and building up. As such, her first task began with the following words:

"Genma-san, is that... a bowl of water?" she asked a bit sceptically when the tokujo announced he had "just the thing" to help her with her training.

"Yup." the brunet agreed cheerfully. "And don't you look so surprised - I'm not letting you just start off with trying to melt your entire body into water and back again; we're going to start with baby steps or we're not starting at all."

Sakura nodded, deeming that a fair point, remembering back to her first attempts at Earth Release. "Okay. What do you want me to do?" 

At that, Genma smirked. Then, he raised his hand and let it hang, palm-down above the surface of the water. Sakura noticed a slight wrinkle between his brown and how the corner of his lips twisted down in concentration before a soft blue glow enveloped his hand, and then, to her utter disbelief, the water rose from the bowl and seemed to _stick_ to Genma's hand like a thin, translucent cocoon. Seeing her wide eyes and gaping mouth, Genma laughed.  

"This is what I want you to start with." he announced, and the rosette raised an eyebrow.

"' _Start with_ '?" she parroted incredulously, scowling when the brunet’s smirk came back full force. 

"Yes, _start with._ Your chakra control is so precise that I expect you to be able to do this with your _whole_ body in, oh, let's say a month." And the tokujo had the gall to _shrug_.

Sakura let out a frustrated whine. "But I don't even know if I can do it with one _hand_!!" she protested, willing the brunet to see reason, but Genma remained (infuriatingly) unconcerned. 

"Better get to practicing then, huh?" he teased as a shit-eating grin split his face and he ruffled Sakura's hair. "After all, am I not the most 'patient and thorough' teacher you've ever had?" he teased, and the rosette felt perfectly justified in smacking him with one of the sofa cushions.

But regardless of whether it annoyed her or not, Sakura obeyed. Every day, whenever she could find a minute to spare, she'd find some water - a puddle, one of the streams, or even buy a bottle and spill it - and she'd practise. It was tedious while she was working it out; only slightly more interesting than watching paint dry. The task _literally_ required her to sit with her hand hovering over the water, chakra gathered, and hope to find a way to make it _stick._

It took her far longer than she'd like to admit to realise that it was nearly the exact same process as water walking. (when she did figure that out, she nearly smacked herself in her larger-than-average forehead out of frustration). _But,_ once that milestone had been accomplished, Sakura felt like she was making astronomical progress. Half way through her second week of practising, just as she was taking a break from painting the last part of the fence, the rosette was confident in her ability to get the water to stick around her hand in an oblong bubble. She was surprised to discover that such a seemingly simple task left her near _exhausted,_ her chakra levels alarmingly empty. Sakura felt her respect for Hyuuga Neji skyrocket when she remembered that the teen had been able to not only emit chakra from every one of his tenketsu, but also almost solidify it-!

This time, Sakura did smack herself, wet paintbrush in hand and all.

 _I’m so stupid, oh my God._ She chastised herself. _Is it or is it not universally acknowledged that shinobi use their surroundings to their advantage? And is there not an entire_ Clan _full of shinobi who excel at external chakra manipulation in Konohagakure?_ She caught herself mid-rant and deflated slightly. _But how does one acquire a Hyuuga willing to help you?_

Sighing, Sakura rose, cracking her back as she returned the brush into the paint can. “Hanamaki-san? I’m finished with your fence!” she called, and an elderly man hobbled out of the house, appraised the fence and smiled at her gratefully.

“Thank you, Haruno-san. You are free to go.” Sakura nodded and bowed shallowly, then made her way towards the Hokage Tower to give her report of the day’s missions.

She was rubbing absently at her forehead as she exited the Tower, not really paying attention to where she was going as she tried to peel off the crimson paint that she’d smeared there during her realisation. It was because of her inattention that she didn’t see the body until she walked into it and staggered at the force of the collision, letting out a wonded ‘oof!’.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention-! Hyuuga-san?” she cut herself off as a pair of familiar, stern lilac eyes cut in her direction.

“Haruno-san.” Neji greeted coolly, but there was a hint of surprise in his voice. His eyes flickered from her own to the paint on her forehead and Sakura could swear she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up, but the amusement was gone in an instant. “It is of no matter, do not worry about it.”

It took Sakura a moment to realise that the teen was referring to her hasty apology and she flushed, embarrassed. “Ah, i-if you say so.” She stammered. Then, she realised that the Hyuuga shouldn’t be outside. He shouldn’t even be _walking._ “Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” she blurted out, then immediately covered her mouth, face going pinker than her hair. “I-I mean, I-I didn’t know they r-released you, not that I’m implying t-that you ran off o-or something-!” she tried to clarify, but only ended up rambling till she cut herself off and simply covered her face with her hands, mortified.

A light touch at her elbow had her pulling her hands away from her face. Her eyes immediately flickered to the Hyuuga’s face and noted that there was definitely amusement in his eyes this time. “I was actually released earlier today. There was no way for you to know that, so your concern is justified.”

Somehow, even knowing that she was ‘justified’ in her outburst, the embarrassment didn’t go away. Surprisingly, she didn’t have to think of a response, as it seemed that the Hyuuga was not done. “My Uncle informed me that you are the one responsible for the extra flowers at my bedside when I was recovering.” Sakura’s face had taken on a permanent pink hue, and she inwardly cursed the Hyuuga patriarch for ratting her out. But it seemed Neji wasn’t done. “Why would you do that? We hardly know each other and even my own team didn’t visit me as frequently.”

 Sakura fidgeted uncomfortably and didn’t meet the teen’s eyes as she sighed. “Would it make sense if I said I felt responsible?” she asked rhetorically. “The Uchiha should’ve been dealt with by Hunter-nin, or his own team at least. I chose to save someone else and my genin sensei was gone on a mission; our absence meant that, instead of _us_ having to clean up our messes like we should’ve done, innocent people had to risk their life and well-being for the sake of a traitor.” She met his eyes, wanting her next point to ring loud and clear. “The flowers felt like the least that I could do.”

 Neji seemed to scrutinise her for a few seconds until he finally spoke. “Nonetheless,” he began carefully, “I am grateful. For the flowers and for the promise you made my Uncle.” He clarified, and Sakura inwardly renamed _Hyuuga Hiashi: Hyuuga patriarch_ in her head, to _Hyuuga Hiashi: tattletale extraordinaire._ She tuned back in when she realised Neji was still talking. “-not something I’m used to strangers doing for me. Is there anything I could do to thank you?”

Sakura blinked. Then blinked again, temporarily speechless. Hyuuga Neji was… extending the metaphorical olive branch? Were her eyes deceiving her?

And then, just as she was about to say ‘no’, her question from earlier on in the day came back to her. How else could she get what she wanted without arising suspicion than now, when a Hyuuga was actively offering help?

“I… there is something you could do. However, it would take a while to explain, so it might be better if we relocated somewhere more comfortable.” And then, before she lost her nerve, Sakura blurted out; “There’s a lovely teahouse just around the corner – my treat?”

She almost fainted from relief when Neji nodded an affirmative.

* * *

 

“I’m sorry?” Neji asked after Sakura explained exactly what she wanted from him, and if the Hyuuga were any more prone to expressing their emotions, the rosette might’ve said he sounded flabbergasted.

“I need to be able to expel chakra from all my chakra points. I know you can do it – you did it with that defensive technique you used in the Chunin Exam finals.” She explained for the second time, trying not to let her impatience show.

“No, that’s different.” The brunet denied, shaking his head, but he was still frowning. “Besides, even if you could somehow learn how to expel chakra from anywhere on your body, you wouldn’t be able to do what you say you’re aiming for. The Kaiten does release chakra from every tenketsu, that’s true, but there is no elemental manipulation; it is purely chakra and kinetic energy. What you’re telling me about is highly advanced chakra manipulation. I’m almost certain that whoever told you about this was setting you up to fail.”

Sakura bristled. “That’s not true.” She argued, knowing that Genma would never give her a task that was impossible.

“Yes, it is. Even most jounin can only release chakra from their hands and feet. In Konoha, only my Clan has a wider range.” Neji shot her down and again, and Sakura finally saw some of that pompous air that seemed to irritate Naruto so much.

“No,” she ground out between clenched teeth, glaring at the brunet with all the strength of her conviction. “I _meant_ that it’s not true because _I can do it_.” And she scowled ferociously at the teen, waiting for him to see reason.

Instead, what she got were wide eyes and a flat, toneless, “What.”

Sakura blinked, her anger suddenly replaced with confusion. “I can do it. I can expel chakra and get it to bond with water from both my hands and forearms.” She repeated, elaborating slightly as if Neji were thick.

Then, to her utter surprise, the Hyuuga sat up even straighter, stared at her attentively and demanded “Prove it.”

The rosette stared at him incredulously then shrugged and looked around for a water source. Finally, she settled on their teacups and concentrated. Gathering chakra into her hand, she let it seep out then gradually coat her arm all the way up to her elbow as that was still an area she felt reasonably in control of. Then, she hovered her hand just above the rim of her teacup and extended her reach. She could see, and from his startled intake of breath she knew Neji could too, how a small tendril of the liquid reached out to her until it connected with the chakra around her hand and spread out, slowly pulling with it the rest of the tea until the whole cup was empty.

Neji reached out, as if in a daze, to touch it, only to draw back when his hand made contact with a quiet hiss.

“Oh, I forgot the tea’s still hot.” Sakura laughed and rubbed her neck sheepishly with her free hand.

The Hyuuga seemed to assess her for a few seconds, then nodded. “You were right. I believe you.”

Sakura sat there for a few seconds openly gaping at the teen before she brightened, a grin so wide it was painful pulling at her lips. “That’s great!” she enthused, eyes boring into the Hyuuga. “Can you help?”

To her disappointment, Neji shook his head. “I can’t help you with the elemental manipulation.” He denied, but before Sakura could grow dejected, he added. “However… I could show you the way the Hyuuga children are taught how to release chakra from their bodies.”

The rosette stared at him in disbelief. “Won’t that be sharing Clan secrets though?” she asked sceptically.

At that, an expression that could only be a smirk appeared on Neji’s face. “No. I said I’ll _show you_. Not _tell you_ how to do it _._ You are not a Hyuuga, you do not have the Byakugan, thus there is minimal chance you’ll be able to copy what I do. However, you may still find it beneficial to your goal.”

_That sneaky-!_

But then, any help from a Clan that can literally _see_ tenketsu was better than no help at all. With that in mind, Sakura grinned at the brunet across her.

“I’m game.”

* * *

 

Only years of training his reactions prevented Genma from jumping when his front door was violently thrown open, soon accompanied by the sounds of stumbling and muttered curses.

“Kid?” he called out from his position on the sofa, quickly snatching up Minato’s journal and hiding it under one of the cushions. “You alright?”

“-goddamn sourpuss Hyuuga needs to get that stick out of his ass and learn to lose _ouch_ motherfu- that _hurts-!_ ”

At that, Genma couldn’t stifle his snort nor his curiosity. “Oi, brat, come in here!” he called again, louder this time.

The grumpy muttering ceased and a few seconds later, Sakura appeared in the doorway of the living room. She was drenched, her hair, somehow free of its standard ponytail, hung limply down her back, matted with water and grime. But the icing on the cake was how she kept rubbing at very odd yet familiar-looking bruises dotted all along her arms.

“Kid,” Genma began warily, attempting to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape him at the sight. The rosette looked like a _wet kitten_. “did you… did you make the mistake of pissing off a Hyuuga?” he asked, his tone bordering on hysterical towards the end.

Sakura grumbled some more but shook her head. “No, I made the mistake of upsetting his vanity.” She replied grumpily and Genma lost it. When he finally calmed down, he noted that Sakura’s lips were now curled ever so slightly upwards and he counted that a win.

“Man, I hope that he looks even worse than you!” he crowed, grinning still.

The smirk that appeared on the rosette’s face in response could only be called _devious._ “You know those gorgeous, luscious, completely _impractical_ locks of the Hyuuga men? The ones they seem to take so much pride in?” she asked rhetorically, but Genma still nodded. The smirk grew. “I got mud in it.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, Genma insanely proud and amused and Sakura very self-satisfied with a hint of schadenfreude glinting in her eyes. Then, they both burst out laughing. At some point, Sakura lost her balance and ended up on the rug on the floor, curled up and wheezing with the force of her laughter, tears running freely down her grime-covered cheeks. Genma was in an only slightly better state, sat on the sofa and clutching at his stomach as he laughed silently, periodically slapping one of the cushions with the flat of his hand.

When they eventually calmed down, Genma managed to choke out, “Go wash up. You’re getting mud on the rug.”

And Sakura shot him the most baleful, unimpressed look she could from her position on the floor, but obediently rose and left the room, grumbling renewed while Genma got up to whip up some chicken soup for when she got out.

All in all, it was a good day.

* * *

 

The last week of Sakura’s imposed month of D-Ranks passed quickly – menial tasks in the morning were interspersed with the leaf exercise that Neji recommended, afternoons were spent on the banks of the river trying to get the water to stick to more than just her hands, early evenings were spent trying to defend herself from the Hyuuga’s Juuken which Sakura quickly learnt was what Neji had meant by ‘help’, and late evenings were spent with Genma on theory and old techniques.

By the end of the month, Sakura could release chakra from the tips of her fingers to her shoulders, and from the soles of her feet to her hips. It was the middle area, as well as her head, that posed problems. But she didn’t have much time to dwell on that, as a week after her last D-Rank, after a thorough rebuking from the Godaime and after celebratory dango with Genma, something happened.

Three days after her last D-Rank, Genma was sent away on a B-Ranked courier mission with some chunin. Easy, he said. There and back in two days, he said. On the second day of Genma’s absence, Sakura received her own official C-Rank mission that was said to take two days – a simple delivery to the Tanzaku Quarters. She was assigned a team of two other chunin, and they completed the mission in the assigned time, with positive feedback from the employer and a smile from Tsunade for a job well done.

But in the evening, when Sakura was on her way home, she noted that a faint chakra signature was coming from the house although all the lights were off. She recognised the chakra as Genma’s but it was far too weak for her liking. Worried, she opened the door, taking the utmost care to be silent in her movements, only to freeze in the doorway leading to the living room. On the sofa, clearly passed out, was Genma. But Sakura’s heart skipped a beat then started up in double time when she switched on the light and realised just what state he was in:

The front of his normally immaculate jounin jacket was stained a blackish-brown which could only have been blood. His trademark bandana was missing, his hair stuck together with the same ruddy-brown liquid as his jacket, and his face was pale and drawn. Upon closer inspection, Sakura noted that he was running a high fever.

“Genma-san?” she tried carefully, lightly shaking his shoulder. “Genma! Wake up!”

One brown eye cracked open, hazy and unfocused and Sakura realised that Genma couldn’t recognise _who she was_. Her heart in her throat, she tried to shift him into a sitting position, “I’m Sakura, remember? I live with you. Now c’mon, I’m gonna get you to a hospital so they can fix you up, oh god-!”

“Sakura…?” Genma mumbled, disoriented and still in the sleepy stupor. _Or disoriented because of blood loss._ Sakura reminded herself grimly and felt her blood go cold. Then it seemed as if the second part of what she’d said finally registered with Genma and he started thrashing weakly, but as Sakura was not expecting it, he managed to slip out from her hold. “No! I’m not going to a hospital!” he snarled, and Sakura backed away before she could quite control what she was doing.

“Genma, you’re injured! You’re bleeding and delirious and I _don’t know how to help you!_ ” she replied, her voice rising with hysteria towards the end.

“Then leave me here! I’ll be fine! You’ll have to knock me out to make me go!”

 _Do it._ She realised suddenly. _Knock him out._

“Sorry, Genma-san.” Sakura murmured at last, her hands flying through the seals. “But I'm not leaving you.”

She was counting on the fact that Genma’s exhaustion would prevent him from noticing and breaking the sleeping genjutsu that she’d cast so that she could figure out a way to transport him to the hospital. She was right. Then, as she straightened out when she was sure Genma was well and truly knocked out, a glimpse of white bandage caught her eye. Before she could really stop and think about what she was doing, she ran out of the house and called out.

“Tonbo-san!”

The chunin in question turned around, and despite the fact that most of his face was covered, Sakura got the distinct impression that his eyes were searching for who’d called his name. She jogged till she was an arms’ lengths away and shifted awkwardly as what she was about to ask finally caught up with her.

“Hi, um, sorry, I just realised you might not remember me, I’m, um, Sakura, you helped me out during-” she started, tripping over her words in her embarrassment until Tonbo cut her off.

“During the Chunin Exams, right? Kid who broke me out of the genjutsu with Iwashi. Got a mean blow to the head by that Sound asshole, I’m glad you’re good.” He finished, and Sakura took a moment to get over her surprise that she was somehow _memorable enough_ that a chunin whom she’d known for minutes at best remembered her.

“Y-yeah.” She affirmed at last, gathering her wits. “Uh, sorry to pop out of nowhere like this, but do you have a minute? Please?” she asked, a hint of desperation in her tone. Tonbo seemed to consider her for a minute, his covered eyes giving the action an eerie effect, then he nodded.

“Yeah, shoot.”

Sakura sighed, shoulders sagging in relief. “You know Shiranui Genma? He got back from a mission but didn’t go to the hospital and I think his wounds got infected and I knocked him out but I don’t know how to get him to the hospital-!”

“Woah, kid, _breathe._ I know Genma, yeah, he avoids hospitals like the plague.”

(Sakura didn’t mention that she seemed to distinctly remember waking up in the hospital with Genma at her bedside. That was a thought for a less pressing time.)

“Yeah, well, I’m not a med-nin but I don’t think he should be left alone with a gaping hole in his abdomen.”

She could see Tonbo pale even under all the layers of bandages. “You should’ve opened with that, damn it, kid!” he snapped, then seemed to calm himself down and asked “Where does he live?”

So Sakura led him to Genma’s house, relieved when he didn’t ask why she had a set of keys nor why she could navigate the house like it was her own. (because it was.)

Tonbo knelt by Genma’s side, laid a hand on his forehead then unzipped his ruined flak jacket and lightly poked the sluggishly bleeding wound and winced.

“You said you knocked him out?” he called, and Sakura started from her reverie. “What with?”

“The Temple of Nirvana technique.” She answered absently, not realising anything was amiss with admitting just what genjutsu she’d cast until Tonbo muttered a reverent ‘what the fuck’ but luckily didn’t ask anything more.

“Right.” The chunin announced as he straightened up from his crouch. “I’m gonna carry him to the hospital. You should to tag along till we get there and break him out of the genjutsu when the nurses say you can. Then you might wanna scram ‘cause Shiranui will get pissy when he wakes up once he finds out you were the one who dragged him to the hospital _against his will._ But, I can appreciate why that might seem like a better choice than letting him bleed out all over the upholstery.”

“Will do.” Sakura agreed, smiling uneasily. “Thanks, Tonbo-san.” She added when he bent down to hoist Genma over his shoulder.

“Don’t mention it.” He waved her off, then added almost as an afterthought, “And drop the – _san,_ Haruno. We’re the same rank.”

Despite her worry for Genma, she couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face.

* * *

 

It turned out that Genma had only gotten back from his mission a few hours before Sakura, and none of his teammates had suspected that anything was amiss. As the highest ranking shinobi, he’d made the decision to send them ahead to report ‘for experience’, while he himself went home and, according to Tsunade at least, stayed there until Sakura had found him. The rosette also learned that the Godaime had already filled in the paperwork to have the rest of his cell demoted, because one chunin was a med-nin in training while the other had been in the field for longer than Sakura had been _alive;_ they should’ve spotted the injury, or at least asked if everything was fine after the skirmish they got into with some rogue-nin.

But Sakura was having a paramount discovery of her own.

_I don't know how to help him-!_

_“I’m not a med-nin but-”_

_But I_ could _be._

Which is how she found herself outside the door to Tsunade’s office, heart in her throat but with flame of determination burning in her gut.

“Come in.”

Walking through the double door, Sakura found Jiraiya leaning against one of the walls while the Godaime sat at her desk, her head in her hands.

“Haruno? I’ve already done everything I could for Shiranui, and I still think I did too much. It was his own man pride and idiocy which landed him in that bed, I’m not about to make it a completely painless process. Idiot needs to learn his lesson.” The Hokage grouched, lifting her head to glare balefully at the rosette.

Sakura swallowed down the bark of hysterical laughter that threatened to escape. “That’s… not actually why I’m here, Tsunade-sama.” She began cautiously, choosing her words carefully.

“Oh? Then why _are_ you here?”

The rosette took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and met her Hokage’s eyes head on.

“I’d like for you to teach me medical jutsu.”


	10. Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the month of inactivity - school is a nightmare -_-  
> also, WE HAVE FANART!  
> for an amazing full-body Sakura head over to NinjaPenguinLover on deviantart:  
> http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sakura-Haruno-Pulling-My-Weight-634419353
> 
> and for a beautifuuuuul work, go over to my deviantart (work was sent to me by email)  
> http://invincibleshadow.deviantart.com/art/Pulling-My-Weight-fanart-639528074?ga_submit_new=10%253A1476200766
> 
> THANK YOU MY BABIES~

_“I’d like for you to teach me medical jutsu.”_

 Tsunade laughed, startled but amused. "Damn, kid, I've got to admit, you've got some guts to waltz in here and ask me like this. But the answer is no, so go pester some nurse – maybe she'll be willing to let you oversee her work." she snorted again at the end, but Jiraiya just looked curious. 

Sakura straightened her back and squared her shoulders while she tried to ignore how badly that easy dismissal stung. "With all due respect, Tsunade-sama, I must insist on it being you."

 This time, Tsunade's eyebrow shot up and some of the earlier amusement melted into intrigue mixed with irritation. "Oh?" she asked, and her smile grew sharp. "By all means, do share with me your justification for such a claim."

The rosette frowned, trying to remember why she was actively arguing with her Hokage. _You're doing this for Genma-san. Don't be a wimp_. 

 "Because I believe that I already have the foundations for medical ninjutsu. All I need is a firm hand to guide me." she explained, trying to will the blonde into seeing her side of things. “A firm hand which a nurse on duty may not be able to spare.”

 Tsunade scoffed. "That's what they all say." she waved Sakura off, but surprisingly elaborated. "All the hopefuls. And then they realise that a very small margin of shinobi has the control that's necessary to be a medic, much less the precision. So tell me, kid, how good is your chakra control?" she asked, clearly challenging the rosette. 

 Sakura felt her hands go clammy as she tried to remember back to how Neji had referred to it in one of their spars. "My chakra control is in the 95th percentile." she said at last. Seeing how both Tsunade and Jiraiya looked shocked at her declaration, she hastened to add “And I can prove it."

 Unable to find a water source in the Hokage’s office, Sakura decided that she'd have to improvise. Mind going back to a trick Neji had recently taught her, she began directing her chakra to her arms and legs. The trick in itself was simple – it merely required that the user channel _so much_ chakra at once that it becomes visible.

So, with a frown creasing her brow, but feeling reasonably confident about her success rate, Sakura concentrated on the action she'd spent the better part of a month practising.

 Suddenly, right before the Sannins' eyes, a visible blue glow enveloped her arms all the way from the tips of her fingers to her collarbones, and her legs from the soles of her feet to her hipbones. The chakra surrounding her body seemed to buzz, not unlike electrical energy would. She heard Jiraiya's quiet intake of breath and Tsunade's surprised grunt, then cancelled the chakra flow. 

 Everything was silent for a few seconds as all parties seemed to digest what had just transpired. Then, Sakura broke the silence with her last, pleading appeal. “It’s for Genma.” She rushed out quickly. “He’s done so much for me over the last few months, yet when I w-walked in and found him bleeding out on our couch, I could do nothing. I can’t let that happen. If he’s not willing to see a medic whenever he gets injured, I’ll just have to make sure that a medic can always see _him_.” She swallowed and soldiered on, voicing the thoughts that had led her to march up and make demands of her Hokage in the first place. “I know I can do it. I know I can learn it. My chakra control is good enough, and I have always been a paper-ninja, Tsunade-sama; the theory will come easy. I just- please. All I need is a chance.”

 She finished, swallowed noisily to wet her suddenly dry throat, and hung her head, screwing her eyes shut as she waited for the inevitable rejection. As such, she missed the encouraging look Jiraiya shot at Tsunade, and the blonde’s answering sneer. A few more seconds passed by, then, at last, Tsunade sighed.

 “Straighten up, Haruno.” She ordered the rosette, and her voice was sharp. She continued only after Sakura obeyed and met her eyes, “How long do you think you’ll need?”

When Sakura merely stared at her, confused, Tsunade scowled. “If you’re so confident, I want to know how long you think it’ll take you to learn the art of a med-nin. Keep in mind that it takes most aspiring medic ninja about three years to get certified.”

Sakura blinked as the gears in her head worked overtime to do the maths. “If I were to be completely taken off the mission roster for the duration of my studies then… six months.” She announced confidently.

 But when all that met her words was silence, the rosette grew worried. “Forgive me, Tsunade-sama, Jiraiya-sama, but… have I done something wrong?”

 Tsunade’s mouth opened and closed a few times while the look in Jiraiya’s eyes had changed from curious to contemplative. At last, Tsunade seemed to collect herself and snorted, hand coming up to rub at her temples. “I can’t decide if I’m dealing with a prodigy or a _headcase_.” She groaned, but eventually straightened out and looked Sakura over critically. “Fine. I’ll do it. Meet me at the reception at seven in the morning tomorrow.”

 Sakura froze and stared at her Hokage for a few seconds, uncomprehending. _She… she actually agreed?_ She thought dazedly. _Heavens, she AGREED!_ Then she sank into a deep, ninety-degree bow. “Thank you, Tsunade-sama! I promise I won’t disappoint you!”

 But Tsunade merely snorted and waved her off. “Show, not tell, kid. Now shoo, you’ve already caused me a big enough headache.” And she watched, amused, as the rosette straightened up and, with a brilliant grin on her face, sprinted out of her office. “And close the door!” she yelled after the retreating figure.

 Finally, when the kid was long out of sight and one of her ever-present ANBU kindly shut the door to her office, Tsunade allowed her head to drop on the desk with a groan.

 Chuckling, Jiraiya walked over and perched himself on the edge of her desk. “Interesting girl. Isn’t she one of Kakashi’s?” he asked, lightly patting his old teammate’s shoulder.

 Tsunade groaned again and swatted at his hand as she sat up, pulling out a hidden bottle of sake as she went. “Yes. No. I don’t even know. Apparently there’s some bad blood between the two, and Shiranui has essentially been in charge of her progress for longer than Hatake.” She shrugged and poured two cups of sake, offering one to Jiraiya.

The Toad Sannin hummed in acknowledgement and sipped at the drink. “What I find curious is how she didn’t once ask for you to teach her your signature move. It was as if she had a one-track mind; _medical ninjutsu_ this, _medical ninjutsu_ that. Does she not know that with chakra control as good as hers, she could very well become your apprentice?” he asked at last, eyes flickering over to gauge the blonde’s reaction at his bold claim.

 But Tsunade merely nodded, swirling the sake in its cup with a lazy flick of her wrist. “I wondered too. But then again, it is not curious at all.” She paused, sighed, and downed the contents of her cup. “I think it’s exactly as she said – the only reason she approached me was in order to be able to repay her debt to Shiranui, in a way. On one hand, I am angry that she would become so blinded as to not see her own potential, but on the other…” Tsunade paused and downed more sake. “You rarely see that level of devotion anymore.”

 Jiraiya seemed to absorb her words before he smiled. “Why don’t you make them partners then?”

Seeing Tsunade choke on her sake was worth having to run out of the office and dodging the chair she threw after him.

 

* * *

 

_I’m going to be a medic. Tsunade-sama is going to train me. I’ll be able to help Genma-san. Tsunade-sama will train me. The Hokage._

These thoughts were running through Sakura’s head like a broken record and she couldn’t keep the happy grin off her face if she tried. She gave Genma’s hospital room a wide berth, still wary of what Tonbo-san had told her about the former’s dislike of hospitals. No reason to end her good mood before she’s even had a chance to fully enjoy it. Not knowing where to go but not quite willing to go home just yet, Sakura decided to visit the Terrible Twins.

  _Kami, it’s been forever since I’ve last seen them. I think the last time was… before the mission to Kiri!?_ It is with that epiphany that Sakura realised that she still hadn’t given them the gifts she’d bought while in Kirigakure. _They must still be in my bag!!_

 She all but raced down the rest of the stairs leading out of the Hokage Tower and took the rooftop route to her and Genma’s house. She was right – Genma’s cloak, the twin kodachi for Izumo and Kotetsu, the hairclip for her mother as well as all her books were still in her pack, which had been buried under a pile of clothes and shoved to the farthest corner of her room, out of sight, out of mind. Looking at her room now, Sakura saw weeks’ worth of negligence in the mess that had gathered. She resolved to do the clean-up soon, now that she was (hopefully) off the active missions roster for at least a while, and she could spend more time in her room than just the eight hours when she was sleeping, as she had been doing for the last month. But right now, she had presents to distribute!

 Sakura decided to drop off Genma’s cloak first. Not only would that give her a chance to see how annoyed the tokujo was with her actions, but also see how he was healing. (she also secretly hoped that he would be more inclined to forgive her with the small gift. She tried to convince herself it wasn’t bribery, just… convenient timing.)

 The way to the hospital didn’t take her long at all, nor did finding Genma’s room. What took the longest was convincing herself to raise her hand and _knock, damn it!_

 When she finally did, there was no response. Hoping that it meant that Genma was sleeping and not ignoring her, she carefully pried the door open and stepped in. The brunet was laying on the bed furthest from the door with his back was turned to her, but his shoulders were tense and rigid, his breathing far too choppy to be sleeping.

 “Genma…san?” she tried carefully, inching further into the room. At the sound of her voice, Genma stiffened and shifted on the bed, but made no move to face her. “How… how are you?” again, she asked tentatively, feeling as if she was walking on eggshells instead of chatting with the man she’d been living with for the better part of three months.

 Only silence greeted her words.

 Sakura tried not to let the disappointment get to her. Instead, she made her way over to Genma’s bed, pulled out the cloak and draped it over him. “I’m glad you’re alright.” She murmured at last, then turned around and quickly left the room, angrily wiping at the tears that threatened to fall.

 She left so quickly that she missed the guilty glance Genma shot after her, as well as his astonished expression when he realised what the material she’d draped over him was.

 Suddenly, Genma felt like crying, too.

 

* * *

 

Sakura found Izumo and Kotetsu in a little teashop off the main street, only because she glimpsed Kotetsu’s unruly mess of hair in the window when she was passing by. As soon as she opened the door and walked in, Kotetsu was on her and she found herself swept off her feet and pulled into a bear hug.

 “Pinky! You’re alive!” the raven cheered, nearly deafening her. There was a soft ‘ _thwack_!’ and she was suddenly falling the two feet or so till her feet collided with the ground and the shock of the impact send little jolts of pain up her legs.

 “Sakura-chan, I apologise for this idiot.” Izumo greeted with a smile, lowering his hand, and Sakura belatedly realised he must’ve slapped his partner upside the head to make him let go. “But we are glad to see you. It has been a while.”

 Sakura smiled, falling back into an easy rhythm. “It really has, I apologise for that. Tsunade-sama and Genma had me running errands and training till I was basically dead on my feet.” She shrugged, shooting them a wry grin.

 “Was that the infamous ‘month of D-Ranks’ you got after saving Genma’s ass?” Kotetsu asked, sending her a knowing grin. Sakura paled, her eyes growing wide.

 “What- how do you know about that?” she stammered, glancing between the two chunin in confusion.

 Kotetsu merely laughed while Izumo shot her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid we’re not the only ones who know. Some jounin like to gossip when off missions, and, well… you did come up a few times.” The brunet explained a bit awkwardly, glancing at her to gauge her reaction.

 Sakura took a moment to absorb that. “So then… do they know I live with him?” she asked, hoping against hope that that particular piece of information was not common knowledge. At her words, Kotetsu’s grin briefly slid off his face, and though it was quickly replaced, Sakura couldn’t help feeling as if it was no longer as genuine as before. That was all the answer she needed. She sighed. “As long as nobody says anything unpleasant to him, I don’t care if people know.” She admitted at last, startled at how true the statement really was. She really didn’t care. Genma was a wonderful teacher, an incredible shinobi and a great person to top it all off. So what if they were going through a bit of a ‘rough patch’ - there was nothing shameful in admitting that she associated with him.

She stared at the ground for a second, thinking things over, and as such missed the startled but pleased glance the duo exchanged over her head. Then, she remembered why she even sought them out at all and perked up.

 “Oh! I nearly forgot, I’ve got something for you!” she exclaimed, drawing two pairs of curious eyes. But then she glanced around and noticed that they were still standing up in the middle of the café. She frowned, “How about we move somewhere else first?”

 And so they left the café, unanimously agreeing to go to ‘their’ training ground instead. The weather was lovely and Sakura listened attentively while Izumo and Kotetsu filled her in on what happened during her month of ‘punishment’. Finally, they arrived at the clearing that marked training ground four, and only then did the rosette notice that Kotetsu seemed to almost vibrate with supressed excitement.

 The raven grinned when he noticed her looking. “Okay, okay, I’ll bite – what is it?” he asked, bouncing on his heels like a little boy. Izumo merely sighed and smiled fondly, clearly all too used to his partner’s antics, and Sakura couldn’t help the answering fond smile. Digging through her pack, she pulled out the carefully-wrapped twin kodachi and presented it to the duo.

 “I bought them when I was in Kiri, but so much happened after I got back that I actually forgot I had them for over a month.” She explained sheepishly. She watched how carefully both of them went about unwrapping the swords, then how their eyes widened in disbelief when they finally revealed the kodachi within. For some inexplicable reason, Sakura felt the need to explain herself. “I just saw them in the shop and thought of you, I don’t even really know why. I’m sorry if you don’t like them, I just-”

 She was cut off by two green blurs tackling her in a hug that swept her off her feet. “ _’Sorry if you don’t like them’_ she dares say.” Kotetsu grumbled into her shoulder. “Pinky, we don’t _like_ them, we _love_ them.” He stressed, and squeezed her hard one last time before letting go, almost at the same time as Izumo.

“He’s right, Sakura-chan.” The brunet confirmed gently, smiling at her gratefully while carefully wrapping the kodachi back up. “They are really gorgeous weapons. Thank you.”

 Sakura couldn’t help the brilliant smile that appeared on her face as a result of the words. But then, Kotetsu wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t ruin the moment. “Yeah, yeah, they’re pretty, glad that’s established, but how about we break them in?”

 Eyes going wide, Sakura took a step back. “You mean spar?” she asked curiously, if a bit hesitantly. At Kotetsu’s wide grin and answering nod, Izumo raised his hand up with a resigned smile.

 “I’m going to opt out. Still not feeling a hundred percent after that last mission.” He announced and perched himself on the edge of the clearing, studiously ignoring Kotetsu’s muttered ‘wimp’. Instead, the raven turned to her, his grin turning devious.

 “Well? What do you say, pinky?” he teased, waggling his eyebrows. Sakura frowned, pulling off her backpack and digging through it; when her fingers closed around a familiar shape, she let out a victorious cry and produced the scroll with most of her weapons sealed within it. Unsealing her naginata, she threw her pack towards Izumo and settled across from Kotetsu in a comfortable stance.

 “Well?” she demanded, smirking when Kotetsu seemed slightly dumbfounded. “What are you waiting for?”

 Unfortunately, it didn’t take the raven long to snap out of it and rush at her, his teasing grin returning full force. They met in a clash of metal on metal, Sakura’s naginata bearing down on Kotetsu’s kodachi with its sheer size, but the raven matched each of her strikes with ease, grin never fading. They traded blows back and forth, but the spar was largely at a stalemate. That is, until Kotetsu jumped back and hollered “I think it’s been sufficiently broken in, don’t you think?” when Sakura merely narrowed her eyes, he sealed the kodachi in a scroll she hadn’t even seen him pull out and called out; “How about we get serious?” then proceeded to pull out a weapon that made Sakura’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious!” she shrieked when a mace almost _twice her size_ appeared in Kotetsu’s hands. _That’ll squish me like a fly!_ She wanted to scream but found that she had no time to do so as Kotetsu was already swinging the mace over his head and bringing it down over her head. Sakura barely managed to backflip out of the way, feeling the ground shake with the force of the impact as the mace embedded itself exactly where she had been standing barely a second earlier.

Seeing the split-second window of opportunity and knowing that it may be the only one she’ll get in a while, the rosette jumped forward and into Kotetsu’s personal space, angling the blade of her naginata towards his side in a downward arc.

She wasn’t surprised when her attack was easily parried with a kunai, but she wasn’t deterred either; she merely reversed her grip and swung the hilt of the weapon towards the soft meat of Kotetsu’s stomach, hoping to at least make him winded. Her strike connected at the same time as something hard and heavy barrelled into her, sending her flying a good ten metres away from the raven. She lay still for a few seconds, her vision swimming and her head pounding from where she’d hit it on the ground. She briefly registered Izumo yelling at his partner from the sidelines, but her sluggish brain refused to translate exactly what was being said.

At last, she came to enough to register that she was on her hands and knees, with her back turned to Kotetsu who was clutching his stomach a good thirty feet away from her and glaring at Izumo. Sakura took a deep breath, wincing when the movement alerted her to the fact that her ribs were most likely bruised, but she could still fight.

Feeling a vindictive sense of motivation, Sakura flashed through a handful of seals she hadn’t needed to use in a while, nodding to herself in satisfaction once she felt the telltale chakra shift of the jutsu taking effect. She pushed herself to her feet, wincing when her back throbbed painfully in protest.

“The fact that you can control that goddamn mace even when it’s away from you should be illegal.” She grouched, effectively cutting off the arguing duo.

“Sakura!” Izumo exclaimed, materialising at her side in an instant. “I don’t think you should continue – that hit could’ve damaged your back quite badly and-!”

“If you think,” Sakura interrupted, raising a hand up to stop Izumo from protesting further, “that I’m just going to _let him_ throw me around like a _ragdoll_ , then you really don’t know me at all, Izumo-san.” She replied, though she sent the brunet a grateful smile. “Thank you for worrying, though. It was very sweet of you.” She then hefted her naginata and shot Izumo a meaningful glance, smiling wider when his eyes widened as he saw through the genjutsu.

It took a few seconds longer, but at last, Izumo nodded, sent her a thumbs-up and sat back down at the sidelines.

Sakura turned back to Kotetsu, on whom the illusion still seemed to be holding strong, and grinned when she noted he looked hesitant.

“You feeling okay, pinky?” he asked with a hint of worry in his voice, and the rosette mimicked one of Genma’s lazy smirks.

“Okay enough to kick your ass.” She shot back, grinning widely when the raven did a doubletake at her words.

But his surprise didn’t last long, and soon she was faced with another one of those obnoxious grins. “So, throwing you around unlocks a trash-talking level. What’s next? Talking me to death? Drowning me in tears?” he teased, and instead of replying, Sakura jumped forward, naginata raised high in the air.

Her illusion was simple really – an area-effect genjutsu, only that she’d minimised the area to the surface of her naginata, and used it to reverse its ends. That simply meant that when Kotetsu saw the blunt end coming towards him, it would in fact be the sharp blade in real life, and vice versa. She wasn’t counting on any of her hits actually making contact, but she was hoping that it would distract Kotetsu enough that she could slip under his guard again.

When she was close enough to the raven, she swung the blunt end of her naginata towards his knee, reassured that her illusion was still working when Kotetsu brought out a kunai to parry it, instead of simply pushing it away. She stopped the swing before it had a chance to make contact, as that would no doubt throw off her genjutsu, and instead swung he real sharp end towards his unguarded right shoulder. She noticed Kotetsu’s confused frown before it morphed into panic as he blurred into motion, one hand snapping up into the ‘kai’ seal while another snatched up his tanto from his belt and raised it to parry Sakura’s naginata.

But the rosette had other plans. For the second time in the span of a few seconds, she let the swing go before it had a chance to make contact. In fact, she let go of her entire weapon altogether and jumped straight into the free space right in front of Kotetsu. She dropped low on her bent legs and stepped forward, her arm outstretched and her palm perpendicular to the ground, and then, in perfect mimicry of the Hyuuga she’d been spending a lot of her time with recently, drove her palm straight into Kotetsu’s solar plexus.

The raven bent over, wheezing for breath and Izumo was at his partner’s side in an instant, calmly telling him to straighten up and take deep breaths and _goddamn Ko, you should know better than this._

Sakura felt ever so slightly guilty, but that feeling was quashed when she felt a familiar chakra signature enter their training field. Instead, she froze over, sending a panicked glance at the chunin duo who met her eyes with equally surprised expressions.

“Kid? You here?” Genma’s familiar voice called out, and a second later the tokujo himself stepped into the clearing. “Ah,” he exclaimed when his eyes fell on the rosette and the duo behind her, before he smiled sheepishly. “sorry to interrupt, I just, uh, I just wanted to apologise.”

That was enough for Sakura to do a double-take. “Apologise?” she parroted incredulously. “What for? And shouldn’t I be the one apologising? I dragged you to the hospital when you clearly didn’t want to go. If anything, I’m the one at fault.”

Genma moved closer to her, shaking his head. “No, no, it was about time I got over myself. Do you remember what you told me when Raidou and I landed in the hospital that time? Do you remember what I promised you?”

Sakura raked her eyes over the brunet’s face at the same time as she wracked her mind for the memory of what Genma was talking about. When she finally got it, her eyes widened in disbelief and she nearly gasped at the tentative smile the tokujo shot her.

“Yeah, well,” he began awkwardly. “I fully intent on keeping that promise.”

Before she could stop herself, Sakura launched herself into Genma’s arms, squeezing tightly and burrowing her face into his chest, feeling a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Genma’s arms came round her and squeezed just as tightly, and she heard him murmur, “I’m sorry for being an asshole. And- thank you. For the cloak. And everything else, really.” Sakura thought she also heard a weird shutter-like noise, but she dismissed it and instead merely squeezed tighter.

When they finally disentangled themselves, Genma wasted no time in turning around to face Kotetsu and asking, “Why did you look so constipated when I came over?”

Sakura burst out laughing while Kotetsu squawked indignantly and pointed an accusatory finger in her direction. “Because your goddamn kid decided to go all Hyuuga on my ass!” he screeched, ignoring Izumo’s murmured ‘Kami-sama why me?’

Genma raised an eyebrow and turned to Sakura for an explanation, but the rosette merely grinned. “I’ve been spending some time with Hyuuga Neji recently – he’s been surprisingly helpful.”

The tokujo took one look at his charge then shook his head, resigned. “I don’t even want to know. Now c’mon, we’re going home.”

Sakura noticed Izumo and Kotetsu exchange a meaningful look behind her back, but she ignored it; her mind was still viciously stuck on the words ‘we’ and ‘home’. She couldn’t help herself – she beamed and skipped over to Genma’s side, linking her arm through his.

“Let’s go!” she chirped, waving over her shoulder to Izumo and Kotetsu and studiously ignoring their astonished expressions.

Genma merely chuckled at her enthusiasm, but he didn’t make any attempts to shake her off.

_They were okay._

However, when they got to Genma’s apartment, there were two things waiting for them there – one was an envelope on the doormat, Sakura’s name written in elegant script and Kirigakure’s signature insignia in the corner. The other was a teen from the Genin Corps, a formal-looking letter in his hands.

“Ah, Haruno-san.” The man greeted, holding the papers out towards her. “Your house has been rebuilt. You can move back in now.” Then he disappeared in a puff of smoke and a swirl of leaves.

Sakura’s blood ran cold.

She followed Genma into his flat, her gaze fixed on the documents in her grasp but her eyes were unseeing. Genma shut the door then glanced down at her, his expression unreadable, but at last he sighed and offered what Sakura guessed was meant to be a smile but turned out looking more like a grimace.

“Do you need help packing?” he asked, and the rosette froze.

She stared at the letter, at what it entailed, but the prospect of moving back into her old family home – _emptycoldalone_ – had completely lost its appeal for her. More than that, Sakura realised – she didn’t want to move.

“Kid?” Genma asked, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

“I…” Sakura trailed off, unsure how to proceed. Second passed in silence and Genma’s frown only grew.

“Sakura?”

It was like a dam had burst; “I don’t want to leave!” Sakura cried, feeling her eyes sting with the promise of tears as her lower lip trembled dangerously. “I don’t want to move back, I want to stay here, I want to-! _Mmpf_!”

The last of her words was cut off when she was unceremoniously pulled into Genma’s arms for the second time that day and squeezed. “That’s a damn relief,” the tokujo mumbled from above her, his voice suspiciously scratchy. “’cause I was just thinking that I don’t want you to leave either.”

Sakura pulled back to look up at the brunet, though she didn’t disentangle herself completely from the hug. “You’ll let me stay? Really?” she asked disbelief and hope in equal parts evident in her gaze.

The tips of Genma’s ears tinged red. “Of course, kid.” He grumbled, then pulled away, gesturing wildly. “Now stop with this, I’m sure we’ve exceeded our hug quota for the entire year.” He pointed at the envelope still clutched in Sakura’s hands while he took the property papers away from her. “What’s that?”

Instead of answering, Sakura tore the envelope and turned it upside-down. A small, metallic plate with the Kirigakure insignia on it and a letter tumbled out. The rosette bent down and picked both up, a slight tremble in her hands, then unfolded he letter.

She gasped.

“It’s from Chōjūrō!”


	11. Progress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello~ I realise it's been a month since the last update, sorry for that :( school is a pain and university applications suck balls. in recompense, have a monster chapter (srsly. its over 10k. rest in pieces) and also, I most likely wont be able to update sooner than by Christmas so hope this will tide u over until then
> 
> as always, thank you for your continued support of this fic! reading all your comments brings a smile to my face every time. 
> 
> p.s. there's a major twist towards the end of this fic, so I wonder what y'all will think of that ;) 
> 
> p.p.s. I think i read somewhere that someone else brushing your hair in japan is a Big Deal TM however, as I cant seem to find the source, you'll have to deal (even if it is a faux pas) or correct me (in which case i'll happily edit it out)

_Dear Sakura-san,_

_I'm sorry that it took me so long to get in touch – Mei-sama has decided that I should try my hand at the next Jounin Exams so I've been training for that the last couple of months. Nevertheless, I hope to find you well. I am pleased to announce that I can already see improvements after Konoha merchants were allowed on our land, so I'd like to thank you for this as well. How have you been since leaving Kiri? Is your guardian well?_

_Please find enclosed the official emblem of our Village, which will indicate that you are an Ambassador. Mei-sama was going to send it to your Hokage but I requested to send it to you personally. I hope you don't mind._

_P.S. I expect that this letter will reach you around the time of your birthday, in which case I would like to wish you a very happy birthday and I hope that you enjoy the gift attached._

_I hope to see you again soon,_

_Yours,_

_Chōjūrō_

* * *

 

Sakura stared at the letter for a few more seconds as the tears that threatened to fall stung her eyes. She handed the letter over to Genma who had been looking curiously over her shoulder as she shuffled through the other contents of the envelope. True to Choujuro's word, underneath the Kirigakure insignia she found small drawstring bag and a rolled up piece of paper poking out of it. 

She shook out the contents of the bag onto her hand and was surprised to find an intricate headdress, with delicate silver bells and thin threads which formed a net that connected it all to a small hairclip. It was truly a wonderful piece of jewellery but Sakura wondered what the bluenette was thinking of, gifting something so beautiful and fragile to kunoichi. Curiously, she unrolled the piece of paper attached to the gift and couldn’t stop the amused chuckle that escaped her.

_I realise this may be seen as a stereotypical gift, or largely impractical for a shinobi, which is why I wrote this as well: the bells will not ring unless you touch them and channel chakra into the metal, in which case they will produce a low-rank auditory genjutsu. I tried to find a compromise between beauty and usefulness. I hope you like what I came up with._

Sakura smiled, unable to believe how thoughtful her friend was. She turned to Genma, excited grin on her face, only to see that he was scowling at the letter.

“Genma? You alright?” she asked carefully, snapping him out of his daze.

“I don't like you interacting with a boy not from Konoha.” The tokujo announced, startling the rosette so much she snorted. Genma glared at her for the reaction then his scowl deepened. “Actually, I don't like you interacting with any boy at all.”

The absurdity of the declaration made Sakura blink owlishly at the man, then burst out laughing. It took Genma a moment but then the reality of what he’d just said caught up to him and he flushed a bright red, covering his face in embarrassment. “Oh, Kami, Aoba was right I’m turning into an actual mother what the fuck.” He moaned, which only served to send the rosette into a renewed laughing fit.

With tears coming out of her eyes and her cheeks flushed a bright pink from her laughter, Sakura calmed down enough to pat his arm reassuringly and grin cheekily.

“I have yet to meet this ‘Aoba' you’re talking about, but if I ever do I assure you, he’ll be the first to know about this incident.” She giggled, snorting when Genma shot her a baleful glare through the spaces between his fingers. “Oh, quit your pity-party, I’ve got a job for you, c'mon.” She dragged the brunet over to the sofa and sat him down, then disappeared into her bedroom. She came out with a brush and her hair free of its usual ponytail, then sat down on the floor in front of Genma and held out the brush and the hair pin from Choujuro. “Make yourself useful and put this in for me please?”

She felt Genma hesitate. When he took the brush from her, his fingers were unsure, gentle. “Are you sure?” he murmured, and Sakura felt completely reassured that she made the right decision.

“Yeah,” she replied quietly, and then, because their relationship wasn’t _theirs_ workout some snark, she added “it’s been forever since someone brushed my hair for me, I’m bored of doing it myself.”

And Genma chuckled quietly, but obligingly set to combing out the kinks in her hair. Sakura closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy this rare commodity; she couldn’t remember when the last time she’d experienced it had been. Logically, she knew it was back when her parents had been alive, but it must’ve been even before her Academy Graduation. She pried her eyes open when she felt a familiar tugging at the side of her scalp. “Genma, are you… braiding my hair?” she asked incredulously, trying to twist round to look him in the eye.

The tokujo urged her still, then sighed. “Sorry, I should’ve asked. I thought you’d fallen asleep is all.” He explained, and even without seeing him, Sakura knew he’d shrugged.

“No, no, it’s not that. I was merely surprised you knew _how_ to braid hair.” She replied teasingly, and was wholly unprepared when the brunet snorted and shot back;

“Would you believe be if I said I once had longer hair than now?”

Sakura tried to imagine it, but she couldn’t master a response more coherent than, “What.”

Luckily, Genma didn’t begrudge her her poor imagination and merely laughed. “I lost a bet when I was around seventeen, and obviously I was too damn cocky to forfeit it. So, I ended up growing my hair out for six months. Had it down to the top of my shoulder blades before Rai took mercy on me.” He lightly tugged at her hair. “I still dunno how kunoichi manage it. Long hair is a pain in the ass for a ninja.”

Sakura shrugged, but there was a grin on her face. “Back at the Academy, Ino used to swing her ponytail and smack people in the face with it. It was quite fun to watch.” She divulged, and they lapsed into momentary silence before they both burst out laughing at the mental image.

“Alright, alright, stop distracting me, I gotta finish this.” Genma grouched and went back to work. A few minutes later, he let out a satisfied sigh and clapped. “There you go.” Curious, Sakura was about to run a hand through her hair to get a feel for her new hairstyle, but Genma tutted. “No touching! I’m not redoing it!”

The rosette shot him an annoyed glare but obligingly got up in search of a mirror. She had to admit, Genma wasn’t half bad; he’d separated her bangs down the middle and platted them loosely with the hair at the side, giving the braids an appearance of a crown. He'd then gathered the rest into her usual ponytail and gently pushed the hairpin under the base of the ponytail, letting the bells cascade down to her shoulder blades though managing to largely hide them from view.

Sakura had to admit, she was impressed.

And then, she just couldn’t resist. “Now all you need is an apron and you’ll be a perfect kaa-san!” she called back into the lounge teasingly, then shrieked as one of the couch cushions smacked into the wall just above her head. “Sofa cushions aren’t throwing weapons, damn it!” she screeched, then peaked into the lounge when it went suspiciously silent.

“ _Put that kunai down or I swear to god-!"_

* * *

 

 _Dear_ _Chōjūrō-kun,_

_Don’t worry about the delay! I’ve been busy as well so I really don’t mind!_ _J_ _And wow, jounin exams! That’s incredible! You’re amazingly talented so I’m sure you will do just fine._

_I’ve been good! I’ve had to do a month of D-Ranks as punishment by Tsunade-sama, but against all odds, it was actually really beneficial. I’m so so glad you’re already seeing improvements; that shows the treaty is working, right? I wonder when we’ll be able to see something here. Mei-sama did mention something about a graduate exchange program while we were there, or did I make that up?_

_My guardian was actually the reason I got the month of D-Ranks, but that’s a story for another time. I officially live with him now! Yay~! (I’m looking into selling my old parents’ house right now – did you know how many stupid forms I have to fill?)_

_Of course I don’t mind you sending me the headband – if anything, I’m flattered. That brings me onto my question – are you going to be an Ambassador to Konoha, or were you really just our escort? If you are, did you get your Konoha headband already? I’d feel a bit cheated if you did – I wanted to send you yours with a present as well._

_That brings me onto your present! I honestly cannot thank you enough! It’s beautiful, and practical, and I can’t stop playing with the bells; I have yet to test the genjutsu, but you’ll be the first to know when I do. (it got to me a week before my birthday – thank you for the wishes though!)_

_As I was writing this I realised that I don’t actually know when your birthday is. Or what your favourite food is. Somehow, that seemed like a gaping hole in my knowledge, so enlighten me, pretty please?_

_I hope you’re well,_

_Sakura_

* * *

 

When Sakura made her way over to the hospital the next morning, a spring in her step, notebook under her arm and a happy smile on her face, she was not expecting to be met outside by the Godaime's assistant. 

"It's good to see you again, Sakura-san, especially now that we're in far less pressing circumstances." Shizune greeted and offered her a friendly smile, which Sakura could not help reciprocating.

"I couldn't agree more," she replied, walking over to stand next to the brunette. "Thank you for coming to meet me, I was worried I'd get hopelessly lost." she added jokingly, and decided not to mention how that had been one of her genuine concerns the previous night.  

Shizune merely laughed. “It was per Tsunade-sama’s instruction. She wants to conduct a ‘quick quiz’ I believe she called it, before you get started.”

Sakura paled. “Quiz? But I haven’t even started learning yet!” she exclaimed, but Shizune merely shot her a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry, Sakura-san, even I don’t know what she has planned.”

It turned out that what Tsunade had planned was an on-the-spot test of Sakura’s existing medical knowledge. A test conducted by _Tsunade herself._

“If you’ve got a patient who’s bleeding out the chest and head, which do you stop first?”

“I don’t know, Tsunade-sama.” Sakura responded meekly.

“Guess!” the blonde barked.

“Uh, the head? That seems more dangerous.”

“Wrong! What good is a healed external head wound if your patient has just drowned in their own blood?”

“What’s a more dangerous break for an active shinobi – the patella or the lumbar vertebrae?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who do you treat first – a burn victim or a near-drowning victim?”

“I don’t know.”

And so it went on and on for about five minutes. Every once in a while, Sakura would try to actually work out an answer, or she’d recall something from the Academy and answer correctly, but for the most part, the rosette was getting progressively more frustrated while Tsunade all the more smug. Until-

“If your patient isn’t breathing, but there’s nothing wrong with his lungs, what do you need to focus on?”

“Their brain.” Sakura replied, mind going back to the medical texts she’d devoured just after Wave, when she was working out how to better cast her illusions.

Tsunade seemed surprised, but she masked it quickly. “And what part?”

“The brain stem.” The rosette recalled, confidence surging. “The medulla in particular, I believe.”

Tsunade blinked slowly. “Correct.” She mumbled, her eyes narrowing. “And if you’ve fixed up every wound, but they’re slurring their words?”

“Stimulate the temporal lobe.”

“A patient came to you from the battlefield. You’ve patched him up, sent him off home for rest and given him a week’s time to report back. He comes back a completely different person, shows evidence of impaired judgement and substance abuse. What did you miss?”

Sakura paused, then stared at her Hokage incredulously. _Mood-swings. She’s asking about the cause of mood-swings._ “There’s probably damage to the frontal lobe. In that case… unseen blunt force trauma to the head?”

Slowly, Tsunade nodded. And then, the questions resumed.

When they were finally done, Sakura was very tempted to hang her head and forget about being a med-nin, she felt so embarrassed. But then, Tsunade walked up to her and lightly patted her head.

“Not bad, kid.” She declared with a smirk, and Sakura shot her an incredulous look, at which she scowled. “Don’t give me that look! You owned up when you didn’t know something instead of trying to bullshit an answer, you got a couple basic ones right and you aced the part about the brain. Which is curious, ‘cause most greenies get it the other way round – ace the physical, visible problems and cures and completely flunk the part about the brain." in Sakura's mind, that was code for ' _what makes you different_?'

She shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention. “I’m a genjutsu-type. I read about the brain when I was first looking into illusions. Guess that some of what I read stayed with me.”

Tsunade gave her a measuring look, then smirked. “In any case, here’s a reading list.” She handed Sakura a list of books and scrolls with over thirty titles on them. “I expect you to be ready for a pop-quiz by the end of the month. Then I’ll give you the next one.”

_This is… insane._

“Now kid, are you ready for the real deal?”

* * *

Sakura went home that day smelling of fish guts and frustrated as all hell. She didn’t even get to actually work with medical chakra! Tsunade had just pawned her off on a nurse and told her to ‘observe and do chakra exercises’. The nurse took mercy on her after about an hour, when she saw Sakura essentially fly through the exercises and set her on the basics of a chakra scalpel.

Needless to say, the rosette had struggled, but according to the Shimizu-san, she was making good progress.

And so a week went by, mornings spent in the hospital while late afternoons were spent poring over medical texts, and the evenings with Genma in what had become ‘their’ time. By the end of the week, Sakura hadn’t felt like she’d made much progress – Tsunade had stopped her work on the chakra scalpel and got her started on actually trying to summon medical chakra. While by the sixth day Sakura’s hand had the right shade of green chakra around it, the moment she’d let her hand hover over the fish she’d been tasked with operating on, steam rose up and the fish stopped moving, dead, its internal organs boiled. Sakura had been stumped while Tsunade amused; the blonde then proceeded to lecture her on the importance of modulating chakra to the body temperature of the organism she was working on, as well as trying to sync up the ‘wavelengths’ of her chakra to that of her patient’s system, or else she’d do more harm than good, as demonstrated with the fish. Tsunade then revealed that this was what took medics the longest time to learn and was precisely why nothing short of _perfect_ chakra control was required if one wanted to become a successful med-nin. Most people weren't even _aware_ that their chakra ran on a wavelength, much less knew how to _manipulate_ it. Feeling dejected and only just realising that the six months she'd set herself might have been idiotically optimistic, Sakura had nodded and promised to carry on with her reading to hopefully augment her practical work.

Then, on the seventh day, Tsunade had grinned.

“You get tomorrow off – happy birthday, brat.”

* * *

 

The morning of her thirteenth birthday dawned quietly. Sakura crawled out of bed as usual, only to snap awake at a familiar sweet smell coming from the kitchen. She stumbled out into the lounge and peered into the room, a smile growing on her face at the scene that greeted her: Genma was standing by the stove which was splattered with pancake batter, still in his pyjamas and with a navy apron tied around his waist, hair pulled back with an elastic band, signature bandana absent. The entire scene was awfully domestic and Sakura could feel her smile grow.

“Morning,” Genma called, turning away from the stove to shoot her a cheerful grin and the rosette giggled when she noted that he had pancake batter on his _forehead._ “there’s dango on the table for you.” He told her, and Sakura raised an eyebrow.

“Dango for breakfast?” she questioned curiously, and a look at the table showed her that, indeed, there was a stick of mitarashi dango on a plate, waiting for her.

Genma shrugged. “It’s your birthday – you’re allowed sweets for breakfast once a year.” He teased and Sakura laughed.

“I don’t think Tsunade-sama would agree.” She replied, thinking to the woman’s surprisingly strict attitude towards a proper diet.

This time, the tokujo shot her a mischievous grin. “What Tsunade-sama doesn’t see doesn’t hurt her.” He said, then added, “Though I am glad that she gave you a day off. Makes it easier to do what I had planned.”

At this, Sakura’s other eyebrow rose to meet the first. “You had something planned?” she asked incredulously.

“Well, yeah. I wasn’t sure what to get you for a present so I decided that we’d just spend the day doing whatever you want. Though, really, we do that every day anyway.” He added teasingly, but Sakura couldn’t help feeling touched.

Then, an idea came to mind.

“I… I actually have an idea of what I would like from you.” She admitted hesitantly, and Genma turned to her with a curious ‘hm?’ “It would be better if you stepped away from the stove though… it’s- it’s quite serious.” The glance Genma shot her was wary, but he obediently flipped the last pancake and switched off the stove, pulling off the apron before he came to sit down on the sofa, twisting his head up to look Sakura in the eye.

“Go on?”

The rosette took a deep breath. “I have a question for you, before I tell you about the thing.” When the brunet nodded his acquiesce, she barrelled on. “What’s going to happen to you now that Namiashi-san is on paternity leave?”

Genma looked surprised. “I, uh, I don’t know, kid, what brought this on?” but when Sakura shot him a look, he frowned but tried to answer. “As far as I know, I’ll still be sent on the missions I used to be sent on after the Yondaime- well. Before Raido became my partner.” He amended quickly, and Sakura knew what that meant. “I’ll probably deal with more high-profile targets now since I’m likely to get pulled back into ANBU as assassination is not the most popular branch of the shinobi arts, surprisingly. Why do you ask?”

But Sakura had to get something clear before she could answer. “So, more frequent, more dangerous assassination missions?” and at Genma’s ‘essentially, yeah’ she sighed and bit her lip. “And… what would happen if you got a new partner?”

She knew she’d pushed too far when the brunet’s eyes narrowed. _Damn him and his intuition._ “Kid, whatever you’re sitting on, just come out and say it. This 'beating around the bush' deal you've got going on is making me nervous.”

Sakura snorted at the statement then resigned herself to simply telling him what had been nagging at her.

“What if _I_ became your partner?” she forced out quickly, knowing Genma had understood by the widening of his eyes, but she cut him off before he could say anything. “I mean, I know I’d have to become a jounin first, I’ve realised that, and I know that I’d have essentially no experience compared to you and I know that it’s really arrogant of me to even _suggest_ it, but I just thought, y’know, from all the stories you’ve told me about your missions and your time in the Yondaime’s Guard Platoon, I just thought that I could complement you, I guess? Our fighting styles go together quite well, actually, and if I were your partner then I’d always know what happened to you and we wouldn’t have to go through the whole ‘trip to the hospital then avoiding each other’ fiasco again and you’d be able to do the same for me and I just- yeah.” She trailed off when she noticed Genma’s eyes have narrowed again, but there was also a small smile on his face.

“That’s why you started learning medical jutsu, isn’t it? For _me_?” when Sakura blushed, he shook his head in disbelief. “Just how long have you been thinking about this?”

The rosette fidgeted under his keen gaze. “I… I overheard you, Iwashi-san and Namiashi-san in the hospital after you were attacked by the Sound Four.” She admitted hesitantly, wincing when Genma’s eyes widened again. “It’s been on my mind since then, and after that time when I found you in here, wounded and delirious, I just, I just thought I never wanted to see that again, you know? So I thought – ‘ _what could I do?_ ’ and, well. I hope you don’t mind.”

Genma seemed to assess her for a moment, then, to Sakura’s surprise, he smiled in a very familiar, self-deprecating manner, but there was worry in his eyes. “Would you want that, though? You know of the kind of work I do probably better than most. Would you really want that for yourself?”

Sakura squared her shoulders and wondered when her birthday became ‘honesty hour’. “What I want for myself is knowledge that if somebody I care for is hurt, I have done everything I could to help them. I want someone I can work and get along with, during and outside of battle. I want someone I can trust. But most importantly, I never want to see you bleeding out on our couch again when I didn’t even know you were home.” She refused to be embarrassed at her words. “I know that being an assassin is not easy. I know that I’d have to let go of some of my morals in order to be able to fall asleep at night. I know that we’d have to work together _a lot_ before we even went on any missions, if you decided to agree. But I also know that I’d do all that _and more_ to ensure that I’ll never have to see that scene again.”

When she finished, Genma was staring at her with a mix of amusement and wonder. “You really are something else.” He murmured at last, then followed it with a nigh hysterical mutter of ‘I must be mad’, but he stood up and came to stand right in front of Sakura. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her. “If you want to get to jounin, I’ll help you every step of the way. If, after that, you still want to be my partner, I’ll be there too. But I want you to know that there’s no rush – I’m not quite ready to die just yet, and it’ll take more than what you saw to bring me down. You can still enjoy your childhood, or what’s left of it anyway.”

Sakura smiled back at him, touched, but then her smile morphed into a grin. “I can’t exactly enjoy my childhood if I’m worrying about you the whole time, old man.” She teased, and delighted in the way Genma’s eyes narrowed.

“You cheeky shit.” And then, quicker than she could blink, he flung a bag of flour in her face.

Sakura squawked once the dust settled and zeroed in on his triumphant smirk. Not thinking of much more than revenge, she dashed into the kitchen, grabbed the closest thing she could find, and lobbed it at Genma’s head. The sound of an egg breaking and spilling all over Genma’s hair was almost enough to overcome her disgust when the tomato thrown in retaliation splattered all over her chest.

“ _You’re on!_ ”

 

* * *

 

In the afternoon, after they’ve spent the better part of three hours tidying up the kitchen and fighting for first shower, Sakura went to the Hokage's office. Shizune seemed surprised to see her but quickly wished her a happy birthday and let her in.

When Tunade’s eyes landed on her, though, she scowled. “Kid, I gave you a day off from the hospital for a _reason_. Not so you could track me down to my office to get me to teach you.” She rebuked, and Sakura smiled.

“Sorry, Tsunade-sama.” She apologised reflexively, then added, “But that’s not why I’m here.”

At the blonde’s raised eyebrow, Sakura smiled wryly. “I wanted to know what I would need to do to get recommended for the next Jounin Exams.” She explained with more confidence than she felt, and nearly winced when the Godaime’s eyes widened at the unexpected query.

But Tsunade recovered quickly – she eyed Sakura critically then sighed. “From your posture, I’m assuming that asking _why_  is pointless, and trying to discourage you would be an exercise in stupidity. Very well. Before you’re even _considered_ for a recommendation, you have to complete a certain number of missions for each rank. Then you have to choose a field of specialisation; most jounin are decently proficient in more than one area, true, but they still have a field they started out with. Then there’re references from your superiors you'd have to submit to me, as they will be used to judge whether or not you’re suitable for a position of jounin during the next Clan Heads and Council meetings. Then there’s the training for the exams, and the actual exams themselves. Shall I go on?”

Sakura shook her head slowly, a calculative look in her eyes; Genma had told her it wouldn’t be easy. She could do this. “How many missions?” she asked instead.

Tsunade shook her head and grinned wryly, somehow not surprised the kid wasn’t deterred. “Five A-Ranks, 15 B-Ranks, 25 C-Ranks and over 70 D-Ranks. Luckily, your genin days and your punishment recently mean that you’re all set on the D-Ranks front and through a weird turn of events you’re already 2/5 of the way along with the A-Ranks.” Sakura nodded, already aware of the fact that she had two high level missions under her belt, but she frowned when Tsunade smirked. “However, as you’ve agreed to six months off the missions roster, there is no way for you to catch up the missions you lack for another five months.”

Sakura did a startled double-take at the news. “There’s no way?! No way at all?” she demanded, shocked.

The Godaime shrugged. “An year-long apprenticeship in the Intelligence, Tactical or T&I division is seen as three long-term B-Ranks or ten C-Ranks, but I wouldn’t bother with that – nobody gets into them without the backing of at least two chunin-ranked current members. Best thing you can do is wait till we’re done learning medical ninjutsu and then just take up the missions. And you’ve got to bear in mind that it takes even the best of the best at least a year between the decision to become jounin and meeting all the expectations.”

But Sakura had stopped listening; she was working out which of the apprenticeships would be best for her. _Izumo and Kotetsu... They’re both in T &I. As is Tonbo-san and... I think Iwashi-san? Ino’s dad works in one of them as well, I’m sure, he could probably be my last resort… hopefully._

“Kid? You there?” Sakura snapped back to the present and met the Hokage’s eyes. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, then voiced her thoughts.

“May I have an application form and… four reference forms for Torture and Interrogation please? Oh, and a copy of my missions record?” she requested and delighted in the Godaime's startled expression. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, and Sakura quickly found herself with an armful of papers.

Tsunade’s unusually serious gaze stopped her mid-bow. “Haruno, I hope you realise that T&I is not a place for the faint-hearted. I don’t know what you’re planning, but I just want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with waiting. There are shinobi in their twenties who still haven’t tried out for jounin. There’s no rush.”

Sakura smiled wryly and bowed politely. “Thank you for the forms and the advice, Tsunade-sama. However, for me, there’s all the rush. A rush to get to the position where I can keep my most precious person alive.”

And so saying, she left the office.

* * *

 

Tracking down Izumo and Kotetsu had been surprisingly easy. Both had hastened to wish her a happy birthday and whine about the fact that they had to work and couldn’t come see her in the morning. Izumo then pressed a small wrapped object into her hands and Sakura smiled and obediently stored it away in one of her vest’s inner pockets. The duo seemed surprised when she asked them for the recommendations but they smiled and hugged her tightly when she explained her reasoning. They promised to drop the papers off by the end of the day, wished her luck for handing them in to Ibiki and very helpfully gave her directions to find Tonbo-san and informed her that Iwashi had never been a member of the Intelligence division. But she didn’t need him. Nor did she need Tonbo, really, but she figured one more couldn’t hurt. With that thought in mind, she waved at the Twins one last time and set off.

She found Tonbo sitting at the reception desk in the T&I building, almost buried under piles of paperwork. He must’ve sensed her somehow because he looked up, a grin on his face when he seemed to recognise her.

“Pinky! Has Shiranui been an idiot and hurt himself again?” he greeted her, and Sakura couldn’t quite hold back the snort.

“No, Genma’s alright this time. I’m here to see _you_ , actually.” She admitted, stepping closer and holding out the papers. “I wish to do an apprenticeship in T&I. I know we haven’t really had the opportunity to get to know each other but I'd appreciate it if you could write a recommendation.”

Despite not being able to see his face, Sakura got the distinct impression that Tonbo was briefly surprised, then amused. “You do know T&I ain’t a walk in the park, right, kid? I know first-hand that you’re a decent fighter, but down here it’s not just about that. It’s not a place for people who just want to get from Point A to Point B.”

Sakura startled a bit at how easily he seemed to guess her intention, then felt irritation bubble up at hearing the same thing for the second time. At least Izumo and Kotetsu hadn’t felt the need to _patronise her_. “Tell me about it, then.” She demanded, eyes narrowing. “Tell me what makes it so different from everywhere else.”

Tonbo smirked and leaned forward in his seat, clearly intent on intimidating her. “Down in the cells, you’ll see people who have been there for _weeks_. You’ll need to _break_ them. You’ll see them at their lowest, and you’ll see them crunch a suicide pill rather than give up information. You’ll need to interrogate them, learn every twist and tell of defiance, of fear, of insubordination, and exploit it. Do you think you could do that?” Tonbo's voice had taken on a dark, threatening lilt towards the end, and he sat back in his seat, clearly satisfied with his performance. Sakura could admit to being unsettled by his words, but she found herself thinking that the chunin still had _nothing_ on Yuki-san.

And suddenly, she knew just how to respond.

Sakura smiled politely and stepped closer to the reception desk, getting as close to Tonbo as he had been to her while telling his tale. “I’m a genjutsu specialist, Tonbo-san.” She began quietly. “I can alter reality _itself_.” She let her eyes wander over the papers idly, before she focused back on him, voice still as sweet as may be. “I read once that paranoia is the trademark of every shinobi who ever got above genin. You asked me if I think I could do all that you described; I ask you to answer this: how would _you_ feel if, after days of the isolation you spoke of, days of starvation, of chakra suppression, you’d start to feel the walls closing in on you? Or if you saw the chains restraining you turn into snakes, or grow heavier, shorter, hotter? Or if every man who came to interrogate you was faceless, or seven foot tall? If you can’t access your chakra, you can’t break the illusion. What do you think would happen after _weeks_ of this?” when Tonbo didn’t answer, Sakura stepped away and smiled wryly. “You’d stop trusting your own mind. And who can you trust, when you’re in the middle of enemy territory and at the mercy of your captors, if you can’t even trust your own mind?” absently, she realised that her voice had gotten quieter as she went along, so she cleared her throat and was about to apologise, but then Tonbo _laughed_.

Sakura startled because the sound was very... _sharp._ It was sudden and more like a startled bark than a laugh, and the rosette had to wonder how long it had been since the bandaged nin had last laughed.

“I knew there was a reason I liked you, kid!” he chortled, seemingly completely unaffected by Sakura’s display and uncaring of the stares his laughter attracted. When he managed to calm down, he grabbed her papers and pulled them towards him. “Alright, I’ll fill them in as soon as I get off today. You still live with Shiranui?” Sakura nodded and grinned when the chunin waved her towards the door, a returning grin on his face. She skipped away, and with a cheery 'thank you' was out the door.

She missed the tall figure that had been looming in the shadows of the corner from the moment she handed Tonbo her papers. When she was out the door, they stepped out and stared at the place where she’d disappeared. “Is that Genma’s brat?”

Tonbo smirked cheekily. “In the flesh. She’s something else, isn’t she?”

A scowl pulled at the scars on the other shinobi's face. “You better fill that paperwork out _objectively_ or I’ll have you running errands for a _month_ , understood, Tobitake?”

“Of course, Morino-san.”

* * *

 

At the end of the day, there were three recommendation letters on her doorstep and Sakura roped Genma into accompanying her to the T&I building to hand them in to the man in charge. The tokujo had whined and complained the whole way, but once they stepped inside he’d helpfully gestured her over to an imposing steel door with a plaque that read _Morino Ibiki, Head Interrogator_ while he stopped to chat with the receptionist who’d replaced Tonbo.

Sakura squared her shoulders and raised her hand to knock, the other clutching all her papers in a white-knuckled grip. The door swung open before she had the chance to actually knock, and she came face-to-face with a large, grey-clad chest.

(she would deny the ‘ _eep_ ’ that escaped her at the sight till the end of time)

Craning her head up, Sakura saw the vaguely familiar features of the proctor of the first stage of the Chunin Exams, and realised absently that having all of the intensity of his gaze focused solely on her was _beyond terrifying._

“Yes?” he rumbled, his face impassive and judging, and his gaze cold.

“I-I’d like to apply for an apprenticeship.” Sakura stammered and thrust out the hand with her documents, hating herself for stuttering.

“And you think you’re suited for the role of an interrogator?” Ibiki asked, and though his tone was as flat as ever, Sakura got the distinct impression that he was mocking her.

 _Or hazing her,_ she thought when she noticed that despite his words, he’d taken the documents she’d offered.

So, Sakura opted for truth. “Right now, probably not.” She admitted, drawing his gaze from the papers and back on to her, but with a hint of curiosity in his eyes this time. “But then, that’s the purpose of the apprenticeship, isn’t it? To make me into one.”

“Hm.” Ibiki hummed, then met her eyes. “I’ll look over this.” And Sakura took that as her cue to bow and _get the hell out of there._

“T-thank you!” and then she was walking towards the way out as fast as she could without making it seem like she was running away, and she grabbed Genma by his sleeve along the way and dragged him out of the building after her, only stopping and taking a deep breath once they were back amongst the bustling crowds in Konoha’s main street.

“That man is _terrifying._ ” She blurted out, shooting a wary glance back at the door to the T&I building.

Genma laughed and ruffled her hair. “Well, sorry to break it to ya, but he might end up being your new boss.”

Sakura paled as that realisation settled in. “Oh, _no_.” she groaned. “I’m _screwed._ ”

Genma only laughed harder.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Ibiki sat at his desk and flipped open a file that he’d been eyeing since it landed there.

 _Name:_ Haruno Sakura

 _Age:_ 13

 _Ninja Registration:_ 012601

 _Ninja Rank:_ Chunin

 _Academy Graduation Age:_ 12

 _Chunin Promotion Age:_ 12

 _Clan:_ N/A

 _Family:_ Haruno Mebuki (Mother) ( _deceased_ ), Haruno Kizashi (Father) ( _deceased_ ), Shiranui Genma (Guardian)

 _Missions Completed:_ 78 D-Ranks, 3 C-Ranks, 0 B-Ranks, 2 A-Ranks

 _Other:_ genjutsu type & currently learning medical ninjutsu under the Godaime

Attached were the recommendations from Hagane, Kamizuki and Tobitake and Ibiki briefly wondered when any of those three had had the time to interact with a still fresh-out-of-the-Academy chunin – it clearly wasn’t on missions, so how?

And then, he read the references, and suddenly, it made sense.

He also knew just _who_ to place her with. Pressing the button for the intercom, he called; “Mitarashi, to my office immediately.” Not five seconds later, there was a familiar ‘poof’ of the shunshin just outside his door, and it swung open to reveal one of his best, and also most troublesome interrogators.

“You called, Ibiki?” she asked in that impertinent way of hers, smirking at the twitch that formed in his brow whenever he had to deal with the woman.

But this time, Ibiki had something to retaliate with, so he smirked and turned to face her. “I did.” Wordlessly, he shoved the file at her then delivered the final nail in the metaphorical coffin. “I’ve found you a protégé.”

“You’ve done _what_?!”

* * *

 

A week later, Sakura found a package at their doorstep just as she was coming back from the hospital. Seeing as it was addressed to her, she picked it up, curious, and walked into the house. The grey paper with which it was wrapped wrinkled loudly enough to make Genma pop his head out of the bathroom where he seemed to be wrapping a sluggishly bleeding wound in his side.

 “Whassat?” he mumbled in lieu of greeting, but Sakura’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“I think the better question is what’s _that_?” she shot back tartly, pointing at the bandage around his midsection. 

Genma had the gall to shrug and wave her off. “Raidou got lucky and nicked me with his blade when we sparred. It looks worse than it is, trust me.” Then, he grinned and gestured towards the package she was still holding. “Now c’mon, how long are you gonna keep me waiting? Open it!”

So Sakura did. Inside, there was a formal-looking note on top of a folded grey uniform. The rosette focused on the note, plucking it out of the box and unfolding it.

“’Your request for an apprenticeship has been approved’,” she read out, aware that Genma wanted to know what it said. “’You will be expected to spend every Monday to Friday from two to six in the afternoon at the Torture and Interrogation HQ, where you shall be taught the art of interrogation and intelligence gathering. As per protocol, every new recruit is assigned a senior member of staff as their direct superior with whom they expected to work together closely for duration of the apprenticeship. Yours is-‘“ Sakura cut off, eyes going wide and mouth falling open in a little 'o'. “Oh, _no_.”

Alarmed, Genma moved closer to the rosette, in order to read over her shoulder, not at all concerned by his shirtless state. “’Yours is _Anko Mitarashi’_?!” his voice jumped an octave at the name, incredulous. He sent Sakura a worried glance. “You sure you gonna be okay? You can always try the Tactical Division, I’m sure they’d take you in as well.”

Sakura felt touched by the genuine concern in the tokujo’s voice, but shook her head, no. “No, I won’t knock it till I try it. Who knows, maybe Mitarashi-san is secretly a good teacher?” she offered dubiously and eyed Genma, who seemed to be on the brink of full blown laughter at her words.

Then, he gave in.

“A-Anko?! A good teacher?! I’d pay to see that happen!” he crowed and bent over, hand on Sakura’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Sakura couldn’t stop her lips from quirking up at the brunet’s mirth, but she faked a stern tone and stepped away so that Genma staggered anyway.

 “Poking fun at my misfortune? What sort of role model are you?” she berated teasingly, delighting in Genma’s amused snort, before she grew serious. “But seriously, do you think I’ll be alright?” she asked worriedly, pulling her lip between her teeth in thought.

Genma’s eyes softened ever so slightly and he ruffled her hair. “From what I know of Anko, she likes getting under people’s skin. She’ll most likely try to unsettle you, throw you off, but you shouldn’t worry about it – she won’t attack a loyal Konoha shinobi, even if she does have a screw loose.”

 Sakura snorted at the ‘reassurance’. “Riiight,” she drawled, “so, in other words, I’m screwed.”

 The brunet tried to keep a serious face, but after a few seconds, he grinned wryly. “Seems so.”

 Sakura groaned and socked him in the arm again for good measure.

 The next afternoon, around an hour after her shift at the hospital had ended, she stood in front of Genma, hair in its standard ponytail, Chōjūrō gift in place, and wearing her brand new T&I uniform. “Well?” she asked the man, “What do you think?”

Genma was torn. It was undeniable that the pinkette looked _good_ in the pale grey of the uniform, but what his eyes were seeing contrasted too much with the image he’d built in his mind of his charge. She looked serious, older, more like an actual _shinobi_ in the garb of the interrogators, and although _logically_ Genma _knew_ that Sakura was a highly competent kunoichi, especially for her age, he couldn’t combine the image with his memories. Just two days ago he’d seen her nearly drool over one of the Yondaime's old fuinjutsu scrolls because she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. He’d seen her curl up into a tiny ball on the arm chair during their evenings together, he’d joked and laughed with her and teased her when she dropped a bag of flour on the floor and ended up sneezing so hard that she lost her balance and landed on her butt.

And she’d done the same, teased him about domesticity while making his favourite dinner, curled into his side in the evenings like a particularly persistent cat and pestered him about training till he caved in. All in all, it was surprisingly hard to link the easy going preteen he’d gotten used to with the professional chunin standing before him.

But Sakura must have taken his silence as negative and fidgeted, pulling at one of the sleeves, “Is it that bad?” she asked worriedly.

Genma got up and, ignoring his own words from a few days previous, hugged her. “You look great. Now go give them hell and remember – don’t let Anko intimidate you. She can’t actually hurt you, so just treat her like a really annoying chihuahua.”

Sakura laughed and slapped his arm. “I’m apprenticed to her! I can’t just ignore her!” she denied, though the idea of the fearsome woman being reduced to a chihuahua made her giggle.

The tokujo sighed sadly. “Shame. Would’ve been hilarious.” He dodged the next swat and grinned. “I’ll take you out for dango if you survive today.”

At the mention of her favourite dessert, a new fire entered the rosette’s eyes. “I’ll see you later!” and then she was out the door.

The way to the T&I building was new to her, but she found it easily enough. It was only after she was in the still-imposing atrium that she realised that the letter had been painfully vague about where she was meant to go afterwards. Resigning herself to her fate with a quiet sigh, she approached the receptionist, disappointed to find that it wasn’t either of the Twins nor Tonbo-san.

“Good afternoon,” she murmured, drawing the gaze of the receptionist onto her, “I’m looking for Mitarashi-san, do you know where-” she was interrupted by a swish of air and a sharp pain in her cheek followed by a dull thud. Sakura startled, fingers flying to her cheek and coming away smeared with blood as she whirled around to see the hilt of a kunai embedded in the wall behind her. Spinning around again, she saw the very woman she was looking for looming before her, a fearsome scowl on her face and a hand on her hip.

“That’s Mitarashi- _senpai_ for you, twerp!” she snapped, then prodded Sakura in the sternum so hard the rosette stumbled back. “Look at you, all prim and proper and put together,” she sneered, “you don’t belong here – how are you meant to inspire fear if you look like this?!” she demanded, and Sakura valiantly fought the urge to cower and flinch away from her loud voice and dominating personality.

Then, she remembered Genma’s words; _don’t let her get under your skin._

So she took a deep, calming breath, and looked Anko in the eyes, despite the fact that she could feel goosebumps break out on her arms and every instinct within her was telling her to _run away while she still could._ “There are other ways of inspiring fear than by sight, Mitarashi-senpai.” She replied quietly, but she knew the woman had heard her by the slight narrowing of her eyes as well as the sudden kunai at her throat.

Sakura couldn’t quite hold back her shiver and instinctive fearful gulp, even as she repeated Genma’s words in her mind _she can’t hurt you, she can’t hurt you, shecan’thurtyou!_ “What did you say?” Anko whispered into her ear, and the rosette closed her eyes and pulled her hands behind her back, forcing her trembling fingers into two familiar handsigns.

The effect was immediate: Anko recoiled, her eyes growing wide as she brandished the kunai aggressively this time, her eyes staring into the empty space over Sakura’s shoulder and just the slightest glint of fear mixed in with the anger in her eyes.

And then, she relaxed, put her kunai away, and folded her fingers into the ‘kai’ seal, her eyes becoming lucid and zeroing in on Sakura with predatory precision. A gnarled, deranged version of a smile twisted her lips, though her gaze was even frostier than before. “Not bad.” She commented off-handedly, though Sakura knew it wasn’t sincere. “I would almost say I was impressed if not for the fact that you really _pissed me off now._ ” She snarled the last bit, then her hand clamped over Sakura’s wrist so tight it hurt. “Now come with me.”

Sakura followed the woman blindly, letting the other lead her down numerous stairways and corridors to the point where the rosette lost count of the many twists and turns and felt herself become truly, irrevocably lost. She was now utterly dependent on Anko for guidance. Finally, one of the doors Anko pushed revealed a tall, wide room, a good fifty square metres in area, all the walls panelled in grey stone, the ground with beaten earth and only one window up high, leading to what seemed to be some viewing gallery.

It dawned on the rosette that she’d been led to an _indoor training ground_.

“Why are we here?” she whispered, the first words she’d spoken since Anko had taken hold of her wrist what seemed like hours ago.

The kunoichi turned to her with a challenging smirk, finally letting go of her wrist. “Weren’t you listening?” she demanded, taking a few steps back. “You pissed me off. You’re here so I can beat you into a pulp.”

Sakura got the distinct feeling that Genma was _very wrong._ Anko _could_ hurt her, and she seemed to _plan_ on it.

That was all she had time to think before the other woman appeared before her and delivered a punishing spin kick to her abdomen, sending her flying a good two metres before she got back on her feet, gasping for breath. She didn’t even have a second’s respite before she was ducking to avoid a backhand to the temple, then jumping above the leg Anko kicked out to knock Sakura’s feet from under her.

_Distance, distance, I need distance!!_

She jumped back the second she managed to pull away from the persistent tokujo, but all that the extra space earned her was a kunai flying at her head and another at her feet. Sakura threw herself to the side, letting the kunai graze her right shoulder instead, then threw out some of her own shuriken to knock aside the second wave that was sent towards her.

“Are you just going to run away?” Anko taunted, throwing another wave of kunai mixed with senbon, making Sakura scowl and think hastily of her options – the kunai’s shadows made it difficult to see exactly how many senbon there were, and Sakura could not let any of them graze her; she wouldn’t put it past the woman to have coated them all in poison, after all. With seconds to spare, the rosette flashed through the seals for the kawarimi jutsu, switching places with one of her shuriken and appearing behind Anko, just as the jounin began a new wave of taunts. “All this talk during the Exams, all of Genma’s gloating, for _this_?! You’re wasting everybody’s time!”

Something in Sakura snapped.

Instinctively, she threw more kunai at Anko, giving herself the time to fly through the seals for the nastiest illusion she could come up with, then a technique she didn’t dare use in any other setting, but the steady light source of the training room made her decision for her. Distracting Anko with her genjutsu, Sakura coated her body with chakra until she could control how the light reflected around her body, effectively rendering herself invisible.

“Ooh?” came Anko’s teasing lilt, and the rosette knew she’d broken the genjutsu. “What’s this? You gonna fight back after all?” instead of answering verbally, Sakura layered two more illusions over each other while she thought about how best to deal with the situation at hand: the invisibility granted to her by the technique required too much concentration and was too chakra intensive for her to be able to maintain it for long, but not having to worry about Anko’s attacks gave her a much-needed breather. She didn’t know enough about the woman to be able to plan effectively, her reserves had still not fully replenished since her shift at the hospital, and she was far too fond of life to try anything too risky on the jounin.

And then, Anko cut her thinking time short by summoning snakes. _Snakes,_ of all possible summons and techniques, Anko had to have _snakes_ appear from the sleeve of her trench coat and slither exactly to the space where Sakura was standing. The rosette was treated to a reluctant trip down memory lane, to a similar scenario and she recalled the sheer _fear for her life_ that took over her during that awful time in the Forest of Death. Now, with Anko, her body moved as if on autopilot – with nary a thought, she dropped the illusion, hand digging into her kunai pouch till it closed around three kunai with explosive tags around the handles, fear making her justify the use of three when one would have sufficed for the significantly smaller snakes and area of the room. She saw Anko’s eyes widen in alarm, but it was too late – she'd already thrown the knives, just of a slither of her chakra enough to set the tags alight, and then she was flashing through a final set of seals and melting into the ground just as the explosion from the tags shook the training room.

She stayed underground and moved away from the blast area just in case before she remerged; what she saw made her in equal parts guilty and vindictively satisfied: the snakes were gone, some patches of the dirt ground were still smoking or aflame, and there was a reasonably-sized crater where the snakes had been. Anko herself was patting down the sleeve of her trench coat which had caught on fire, but she was also largely unharmed.

Then, the tokujo’s eyes zeroed in on the rosette, and there was a curious glint in the caramel orbs, and the smirk that tugged at her lips was the friendliest of the ones she’d shown Sakura so far.

“That last part was a bit of an overkill, pinky.” She said, for once not snarling nor taunting, simply a factual observation. “Though I gotta commend your quick reflexes – normally it takes people a little while to figure out how to deal with the snakes. What gave you the idea of explosive tags?”

And Sakura, sensing that their ‘battle’ was officially over, allowed herself to relax and she shrugged. “It worked once before.” She answered honestly, noting the brief surprise that crossed Anko’s face as she realised Sakura was referring to her run-in with Orochimaru, before a grin split her face.

“Well, I have a feeling we’re going to get along just fine.” She announced, then waved Sakura over. “Now come, Anko-senpai is going to show you around the place.”

Sakura smiled hesitantly and obeyed, tensing a bit when the woman threw her arm around her shoulders like they were close friends instead of teacher-student or frenemies at best, but she allowed Anko to lead her out of the destroyed training grounds and back to the higher levels.

“Alright,” Sakura replied, then, because it felt awkward to leave at that, she added a quiet, “Anko-senpai.” As if testing the words.

When the grin on Anko’s face grew, Sakura allowed the smile on her own face to widen into something more genuine.

 _Genma was right,_ she concluded, _she_ does _have a screw loose. But… I think I like it._

* * *

 

The next month was a blur of new and old, of successes and failures and encouragements and critiques, and overall, between the medical training with Tsunade and the various nurses who took her under their wing, the study of various interrogation techniques with Anko, navigating the delicate rungs of the hierarchy at T&I and her nightly fuinjutsu lessons with Genma, Sakura found herself stretched thin.

It was a relief, then, when Anko let her leave at four instead of six on the last Friday of the month – Sakura could’ve seriously gotten down on her knees and kissed the woman’s feet, she was that grateful for the evening off. Her last errand had landed her at the Jounin HQ, where she elected to wait for Genma in the corner while Anko waved to her and left to sit with some of her friends she’d spied on the other side of the room. She didn’t frequent the HQ all too often, mainly due to the fact that she was always running around to someplace or another, but she was content enough to sit down, relax and simply observe the people around her. Her seat at the very back of the room gave her a good vantage point over the whole place, and she was amused to note that even jounin and the odd chunin seemed to be broken up into ‘friendship groups’. She spent the time waiting for Genma reflecting on the events of the last month and she found it almost unreal that not even a full year had passed since she graduated from the Academy, yet so much has already changed.

Just then, Genma poked his head through the main door, scanned the room and its occupants and grinned when his eyes landed on her. “C’mon, kid.” He mouthed, and Sakura rose from where she sat and made her way through the maze of chairs and tables scattered around the room.

She didn’t get very far before she froze – her ears caught the tail end of ‘- _dunno why he keeps her around, I mean, what’s a thirty year old man doing with a kid like her? It’s indecent_ ’ and she slowly turned around to where the voice came from. She was greeted by the sight of two unfamiliar men sitting at one of the tables quite close to the wall by which she had sat, heads bent together and shooting far from friendly looks at where Genma had disappeared. One of them, which Sakura realised had been the one whom she’d overheard, continued:

“I heard they’ve been living together since the Invasion. _Living together_. And he seems fine with it as well. What do you think?”

His companion smirked lewdly. “I’d say he uses her to _help him out,_ if you know what I mean.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Sakura saw red. “I wouldn’t put it past him, as well, everyone knows he’s a bit fucked up-!”

**_THUD!_ **

Heads swivelled round to the source of the sound, and more than one jounin could be found in a defensive position, weapons drawn, but the hostility towards a presumed enemy was quickly replaced by confusion when they saw a chunin slumped against one of the far walls, a tip of a daito pressing into his jugular as a familiar pinkette stood over him, almost _oozing_ Killing Intent.

“Don’t you ever,” she began, voice quiet and clearly meant only for the man before her, but in the sudden silence of the room, her words were heard loud and clear, “ _ever,_ say something like that about Genma again.” She dug her blade into the delicate skin of his neck a little more to make her point and bent over so their faces were closer together as she continued. “You got a problem with our relationship? Fine. I don’t care; you’re entitled to your opinion, even if it’s stupid. But if you wanna smear somebody’s name, smear _mine_. Do whatever, I don’t care. But _leave Genma out of it_.”

And then, the man in question popped his head into the room again, a scowl on his face, and the rosette sheathed her blade quicker than he could see it and turned to him with a smile. “Oi, brat, you coming or not? ‘Cause I’m not waiting any longer.” He grouched, and the rosette only smiled wider and saluted.

“On my way~!” she sang, and Genma’s lip quirked upwards before he nodded and stepped outside again.

Quicker than the chunin could react, the pinkette had turned back around and pinned him in place with the force of her glare. “Are we clear?” she asked, enunciating each word slowly and carefully and not budging till the man nodded.

Then, she made her way towards the door, but stopped just a few steps short and turned around, sweeping her eyes over the occupants of the room. “Does anyone else have anything to say about me and Genma?” she asked rhetorically, and when nobody spoke, she smiled and walked out the door, a teasing ‘ _what’s got your knickers in a knot? I’m here, calm down’_ reaching those still inside the room.

Then, the silence broke all at once, the shinobi within the room in equal parts amused, surprised, or impressed. Someone turned to Anko and called out; “Oi, Mitarashi, isn’t that your student?”

And Anko smirked, pride shining in her eyes as she nodded, “Damn right she is.”

There was a mumbled ‘go figure’ and then a hiss as a senbon embedded itself in the speaker's thigh.

* * *

 

Kakashi was torn.

This was _not_ what he had planned for his team.

Sasuke’s betrayal was a blow right where it hurt, a brutal reminder that, as always, those he cared for always left.

Naruto’s departure following his brother-figure’s leave was also predictable, though made no less painful by the fact that the last time he’d spoken to the blond, some of that infallible optimism that Minato had always possessed had been dimmed by pain and grief.

So Kakashi had hoped that he’d have an ally in his only female student; that they would be able to use the loss of two of their teammates to bridge the gap that had formed between them during and after the Chunin Exams.

But the gap between them did not grow smaller – no, if anything, it became the size of a canyon.

They hadn’t spoken since that time on the roof of the hospital. Kakashi had heard of her diplomatic mission, had been meaning to ask what the hell was she _thinking_ , going over to Kirigakure of all places when she could clearly not suited for the role of a diplomat.

Her success had been a surprise, but her choice to go after Shiranui rather than her own teammate had felt like a betrayal. Kakashi had heard, through the gossip he pretended to be unaware of, that she’d been training and living with Shiranui since after the Exams, but he was not prepared to find out that there was such a level of commitment towards the brunet in his student. He thought her foolish – what could the tokujo possibly benefit from her continued presence? Clearly, he’d only taken her in because he pitied her and the second he could, he was going to get rid of her, and Sakura was going to end up hurt.

He was not prepared, then, to see the two together even after the rosette’s return from her mission. Then, a month went by when he hardly saw them, and Kakashi felt smug – he’d been right; Sakura was no doubt saddened and hiding herself away in her room, back at her old house, because the tokujo had finally given her the boot. He decided then, that he’d go over to her house like a knight in shining armour, comfort her and reassure her that he forgave her her foolishness, and they could fix their relationship and he’d be back to the only higher-ranked, respectable figure in the rosette’s life.

He was not expecting to find the house up for sale.

And then, news of her apprenticeship at T&I reached him, and Kakashi wanted to grab his student and shake her by the shoulders to knock some sense into her. ‘What are you doing?!’ he wanted to scream, though he knew he would never voice his thoughts.

When he first lay eyes on her, Kakashi was convinced that Sakura would drop out of shinobi life the second she came across a hard mission and become a civilian. Her performance in the Exams and advancement to chunin was surprising, but he was certain that that’s where she would stop – become a career chunin or an Academy sensei. He wasn’t expecting to hear that not only was she persevering in her shinobi career, but also stretching herself and joining the least popular Division in the Village; the rosette, with her features and sunshine personality did not belong in the place that hardened shinobi had nicknamed the ‘Underworld’. She just did not.

And then, he was treated to the show she put on in the Jounin HQ, and he found himself doubting his conclusions.

Still, hearing Anko call Sakura ‘her student’ pissed him off.

This had gone on for long enough, he decided.

It was time to reach out and find Sakura.

He was going to have a long talk with his student.

( _His,_ damnit _.)_


	12. Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas eve eve! im officially on xmas break as of yesterday, so I made a point to finish this up and serve it up for you guys as soon as I could!!  
> there are some 'changes', so to speak, as I realised that i'd written myself into a corner and my writing would've placed Sakura dangerously close to the mary-sue category if i'd continued as I had been. so few things were scrapped, and ta-da!   
> also, I apologise for another monster chapter, but since starting this story I've realised that I've become incapable of writing scenes shorter than 2k. so although this only really has about 4 key scenes, its still +10k words. 
> 
> p.s. to those who were saying Sakura has had it too easy up till now - here's where shit hits the metaphorical fan. hope u like suffering cause you're about to get some~!
> 
> MERRY CHRISTMAS TO THOSE WHO CELEBRATE!

Two weeks passed since the confrontation with the chunin in the Jounin HQ; two incredibly busy, stimulating yet exhausting weeks. Between T&I, shifts at the hospital and working with Genma, Sakura had her hands full almost non-stop. She was also frustrated, because she kept running into the same problem over and over and over again at the hospital - she couldn't figure out how to sync up her chakra wavelength to that of her patient, so she kept ending up with fish with boiled internal organs or birds with fried nervous systems. Overall, she was tired, frustrated, and overworked, and the moment she got home, she would curl up on the sofa and either chat with Genma or, if he was on a mission, fall straight asleep.

So it was with no small amount of surprise when, one day, she greeted Anko at her doorstep when the woman popped by her house in evening, a maniac grin on her face.

“Back your bags, pinky, the old man gave us a mission!” she announced, almost bouncing on the spot. Over time, the rosette had realized that Anko had absolutely no respect for authority when not looking them in the eye, and had rather _creative_ insults and nicknames for each of them. This particular one was code for Morino Ibiki, and Sakura, knowing the sort of mission the man was renowned for assigning, wondered why exactly her senpai was so excited. Then, she clued in to the fact that just as _she_ had not been out of the Village since starting her studies under Tsunade, Anko had also been Village-bound since the rosette had been assigned as her student. Suddenly, her excitement was no longer all that surprising.

Still, something bugged her and she frowned. “I’m not allowed to leave the Village for another two months.” She reminded her senpai, getting a careless shrug in response.

“’Cause it’s a part of your apprenticeship, the Godaime gave it the green light.” She divulged, then poked Sakura’s cheek. “Now c’mon, be more enthusiastic! Your amazing senpai got you a ticket out of the Village!”

Rubbing her cheek in annoyance – Anko had used chakra in the poke and it _stung_ – Sakura offered the woman a glare. “Why, thank you, oh amazing one.” She snarked, getting a smack to the back of her head in response which she was too slow to dodge. “When are we leaving?” she asked instead, trying to dial back her attitude (she was _tired,_ damn it, and this whole ordeal was taking precious seconds out of the small period of time a day she had to just _relax._ )

“Tomorrow morning! I expect you at the Gates by 6 o’clock sharp! Pack for at least a week!” and then Anko was off, and Sakura was left staring at the place the jounin had stood in wonder, before she snorted and shut the door.

Not thinking much beyond setting an alarm for five o’clock the next day, she bid Genma goodnight and collapsed in bed. She was out in a matter of seconds.

* * *

 

Once the shrill call of her alarm forced her to get out of bed, she packed her bags, made sure her scrolls and medical kit were in place, grabbed a breakfast bar and was almost out the door before she stopped to scribble Genma a quick note – ‘ _Mission with Anko, don’t know when I’ll be back. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.’_ She topped it off with a cute doodle and then she was off.

When she arrived at the Gates, a whole fifteen minutes before she was supposed to, she found Anko already there, along with a tall, unfamiliar blond who waited behind her.

“Morning, senpai.” She greeted hesitantly, then asked something that had been bothering her ever since she woke up. “What actually _is_ our mission, by the way?” she noted the mysterious blond stiffened in surprise at her words, but Sakura had long gotten used to following the ‘obey and ask questions later’ work ethic wherever Anko was concerned. The woman in question merely grinned.

“One of the subjects we interrogated revealed that there was an Iwagakure base near the border between Iwa and Kusa. He also said that it’s the one that their resistance movement used, so Ibiki reasoned that we can find info about Iwagakure’s future movement in regards to Konoha there.” She explained, and Sakura nodded, accepting the reasoning. It made sense, although she did wander what strings Anko must’ve pulled to get her to tag along on this mission.

But the jounin was still talking; “Tamaki over here,” she gestured over to the slim blond beside her, who flashed Sakura a cheery wave and a small grin, and the rosette couldn’t help her responding grin back, nor the slight blush that rose to her cheeks, “is our ‘reinforcement’ as apparently, Ibiki doesn’t think I’m capable of looking after your frail ass.”

 _Ah, there it is._ Sakura thought smugly. So this mission was more of a test for Anko than any favor from the Head of T&I. Really, she should’ve expected that.

The pinkette nodded again, then turned to face their third member. He was tall, and slim, and although his features leaned more onto the feminine side, there was a certain sharpness to his face and gaze that pieced together into something that made warmth bloom in Sakura’s stomach. When she decided that staring any longer would’ve been impolite, she smiled kindly and bowed. “I’m Haruno Sakura, Tamaki-san. I’ll be in your care.” When she straightened, she noted that the grin on his face had shrunk into something smaller but far more genuine than before, and Sakura tried her hardest to ignore the little voice in her head that whispered ‘ _he’s pretty’ –_ instead, she focused on his words.

“I look forward to it.” He murmured, then reached out and lightly grazed her elbow with his fingers. “Pleased to meet you too, Sakura-san.” And judging by Anko’s amused chortle, her blush wasn’t quite as subtle as she wished it to be.

But they set off regardless, travelling in relative silence, broken every once in a while with short breaks where Anko consulted the map. It was also during these breaks that Sakura learnt that their blond companion was an accomplished jounin, that his genin team had all been KIA and that he dreamed of being a poison master, of all things. She also noted the strange habit that Tamaki seemed to have, where every time they paused or stopped for a break, he ran his finger down the bark of a random tree in a short, about five-inch long line. When Sakura got over her nerves to actually ask him about it, he merely shot her that disarming grin of his and explained;

“When I draw my finger down, I also inject some of my chakra into the bark.” He told her in a tone that implied he was imparting some big secret. Sakura unconsciously leaned in closer to listen. “I’m part of the Sensor Division, which is also why Morino-san enlisted me for this mission; my abilities will help with locating the exact whereabouts of the base. In regards to the habit, well… we have this… _tradition_ of sorts, in the Division, that with every mission, we mark our trail, almost like breadcrumbs, on trees, so if something were to go awry, retrieval would be that much easier.” Sakura stared up at him, surprised but also slightly awed, before the meaning of his words fully registered and she frowned.

“You think something is going to go awry?” she questioned, and nearly jumped when he let out a startled laugh.

“Not necessarily, although it _is_ Iwagakure we’re going to be dealing with, so I think it’s better to be safe than sorry.” He admitted, and Sakura nodded along, then, not quite willing to let the conversation drop just yet, she frantically searched for another thing to say.

“Have you had many dealings with Iwagakure shinobi then?” and she nearly groaned out loud at the question, but Tamaki merely looked amused.

“I actually did my Chunin Exams in Iwa, but that was over four years ago and I was still a genin then, so I guess I was a lot more impressionable. If asked what I learnt though, I would probably just say ‘never trust an Iwa-nin’. Does that answer your question?” he asked, and though his tone never changed, Sakura got the distinct impression that he was teasing her.

She was about to nod and thank him, then stopped, ran through a bit of mental maths and narrowed her eyes. “You were a genin four years ago? But… wait…” she felt her eyes widen and noted the way Tamaki’s eyes twinkled with mirth at her obvious befuddlement. “Just _how_ old are you?” she blurted out before she could stop herself, then slapped a hand over her mouth in mortification.

But Tamaki merely chuckled and took it in stride. “Nearly seventeen.” He responded easily, and Sakura’s jaw dropped.

 _He looks way older!_ She cried inwardly, just as a part of her mind she hadn’t addressed since she’d stopped thinking of Sasuke in a romantic way cheered; _shannaro! I still have a chance!!_

Embarrassed by her own thought process, Sakura scrambled for an appropriate reply, then had to settle for a stammered, “I-I thought you were older. Like, a _l-lot_ older.” To her utter surprise, the blond snorted, the first graceless, unguarded act she’d seen him make.

“Well, since we’re being honest, I’ve got to admit, that with the way you look and your record, I initially thought you were my age.” Then, to Sakura’s utter shock, he picked up a lock of her hair and idly twirled it around his finger. “Then I realized that there’s no way I would’ve missed someone like you in the Academy.”

Sakura froze.

And then, she felt her face _burn._

She was absolutely certain that her cheeks now matched the colour of her old quipao dress, and she was completely incapable of stopping her reaction. If she didn’t know otherwise, she’d have said Tamaki was- that he was-

“Oi, kids, if you’re done flirting, we should get back on the road!” Anko snapped at them from the other side of the clearing, and Sakura would forever deny the squeak that left her mouth as she scurried over to her senpai, staying as far away from Tamaki as she was able without attracting any more attention to just how flustered she was. Judging by Anko’s sly, knowing smirk, she was going to get teased to hell and back once they were back in Konoha.

By the evening of their first day on the road, she had gotten over her embarrassment enough to dare striking up conversation again, and she was relieved to note that Tamaki didn’t seem to think any less of her for her reaction. Though Sakura made sure they didn’t get close enough to each other physically for him to be able to repeat _that move_ again, she felt as though they had definitely gotten to know each other a lot more. When they located the base, Tamaki pronounced that there were only five ninja in there, and they all seemed to be on rotating guard shifts by the entrance. Anko’s declaration that they were in for a few days at least of stakeout to work out the best timing to infiltrate was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because Sakura had grudgingly accepted that she might be developing a fledgling crush on her blond teammate, and a curse because, well. _She was crushing on her older, male teammate._

But in the end she knew that acting on those feelings so early on would’ve not only been unprofessional, as they were still on the job, but also very, very daring of her. Luckily, she didn’t have long to despair – towards the end of their second day of stakeout, and the fourth day of the mission overall, Anko announced that they were going in.

Chakra cloaked and concentrating on the camouflage genjutsu she’d thrown over the three of them, Sakura waited for the moment they were close enough and weaved the strongest genjutsu in her arsenal on the guard. She was thankful that Tamaki had the foresight to quickly catch the nin before he could hit the floor and alert those inside, then winced when he swiftly slit his throat. Anko eyed them bemusedly, but merely nodded and flashed through the seals she’d observed the guards making when they had to access the hideout; before Sakura’s eyes, what had previously been a rocky cliff transformed into a neat, square entryway, which Anko didn’t hesitate to step through, followed by Sakura and Tamaki.

But then, the gate slammed shut behind them, and in the utter darkness that enveloped them, Sakura could just about hear Tamaki’s startled intake of breath, followed by a panicked spike of chakra and a curse. “Fuck!” he swore, reaching out frantically, fingers closing around Sakura’s shoulder in a bruising grip as he tried to explain, “It’s a trap, there’s more of them, there must’ve been some suppressant jutsu on the walls there’s at least a dozen-!” and then, a brilliantly-timed flash of light from a Raiton jutsu illuminated the cave enough for Sakura to see a split-second of over ten grinning, savage-looking faces that surrounded them in a semi-circle, before she was being forcefully yanked aside from the path of a crude, albeit _airborne_ version of Kakashi’s Chidori.

The rest was hell.

The Iwa-nin’s attack had been powerful enough to breach the barrier of solid rock and let in a shaft of light, enough for Sakura to realise that Anko and Tamaki were both fighting five shinobi each and that there were three heading straight for her, blades and teeth glinting ominously in the scarce light. A break in the commotion allowed Sakura to glimpse Anko pulling away from her attackers and hear her frantic yell; “They’re after the mission scroll!”

And then, it clicked in Sakura’s mind. The Iwa-nin who’d given them the coordinates for this hideout must’ve intentionally led them into a trap, but for the interrogators to take his word as the truth, he’d have first had to feed them some legitimate info on Iwagakure’s movements and plans. This elaborately set up trap that they’d stumbled into must’ve been a failsafe of ensuring that there would be no proof of anything they’d managed to extract, since most of the information was contained within the mission scroll that Anko had on her person.

It was more instinct that sight that allowed Sakura to catch something hurtling towards her face; the shaft of light caught the steely but determined expression on her senpai’s face as she snapped, “Take it and run!” just as snakes erupted from her sleeves and dug their teeth into various body parts of their enemies. Sakura only took a moment to compose herself and hear Anko’s last, frantic “ _Run!_ ” before she turned on her heel and fled deeper into what she now realized was a maze of corridors and underground passages.

She could hear the sound of pursuit even after she managed to move away from the main battle, and a hasty glance back let her glimpse the silhouettes of six shinobi who’d managed to escape Anko’s snakes and were currently on her tail. Still running, she sacrificed the slightest bit of speed to flash through the handsigns for the Hell Viewing technique. She heard more than saw one slow down, but the rest persisted, and one even laughed derisively. "You can’t use something so impersonal and hope it’ll affect us!” he jeered, and Sakura felt the cold claws of panic squeeze around her heart.

Then, she almost stumbled when one nin appeared in front of her, rising out of the ground before her and swinging his sword in what would’ve undoubtedly been a decapitating blow had she not ducked. In that moment, Sakura was brutally reminded that Iwagakure shinobi were ninja who were used to this setting, and tunnels and thoughtless Doton manipulation was in their blood. Not seeing a way of going past the man other than fighting, she unsheathed her daito and darted towards him, but only managed a glancing wound down his arm before another nin snuck up to her and knocked her blade out of her hands.

Cursing when she realized there wasn’t enough room to unroll the storage scroll which held all her weapons, Sakura was left with the unpleasant realization that she’d have to rely on her hand-to-hand combat. She managed to twirl out of the way of a side-kick from the second nin, but the sharp, almost debilitating pain of a barrage of shuriken embedding themselves in her back made her freeze and bend over in pain, before she bit her lip and barreled onwards because, more than even her need to be able to _see_ her attackers, she needed _space._

In a move which she wouldn’t have ever performed otherwise, she pumped chakra into her legs and took advantage of the high ceilings of the tunnels by _jumping over_ her attackers, and using the time when she was airborne to flash through the seals for the Temple of Nirvana. She felt viciously victorious when she heard two telltale thumps and realized that one of the ninja the closest to her was caught. Sakura didn’t hesitate: panic giving her movements an almost animalistic edge, she darted over to the fallen nin and stamped on his trachea, feeling the cartilage give and collapse beneath her foot.

 _Five to go,_ she thought grimly.

And then, two were onto her, anger giving them an edge they hadn’t shown before, and the rosette screamed when one of them swung an urumi, and, unable to dodge, Sakura felt it dig into her side so viciously her vision blacked out for a second.

Barreling on despite the pain, she threw two smokebombs on the ground and jumped to cling to the ceiling, muffling her cry of pain when the landing jarred her torn side. She squinted and saw one of the silhouettes separate from the group in an attempt to escape the smoke, and she didn’t think, didn’t try to calculate, just jumped down to land in front of him, and, taking advantage of his momentary confusion as he tried to identify her, darted into his personal space and chopped at the delicate skin underneath his Adam’s apple with the side of her hand. He gasped, hands flying to his throat, and Sakura used that moment of vulnerability to dig out a kunai and slash, first over his eyes, then a vicious, jagged tear from his bellybutton to where the cartilage of his lower sternal region stopped her knife’s path. She let the kunai go and watched the nin topple to the ground, knowing that if not shock, then the bloodloss would surely kill him.

_Four left._

Then, she felt a familiar chakra signature draw close and breathed a sigh of relief when she felt two of her pursuers turn to deal with Tamaki, who’d appeared on the other end of the corridor from her.

Suddenly though, the terrain was shifting, the smoke from her smokebomb dispersing as air flow was allowed into the cave, and with it a single ray of light. Enough light, at least, to illuminate her position and give the enemy ninja an opening. Gritting her teeth, Sakura pulled out two kunai and turned on her heel towards the other two, blocking and ducking under the punches and weapons of the ninja around her. But a treacherous part of her mind whispered what she had already realized; she was slowing down.

Inwardly, Sakura cursed. She’d never had to fight in such a confined space, with so many people at once.

Against Ino, she’d hardly broken a sweat, ending the fight before the other could even properly react.

With Temari, despite the other kunoichi’s clearly superior overall skill, there were still moments where she was allowed a breather, and it hadn’t all been intensive combat. Not to mention that the arena was far wider than the two metre wide by three metre tall corridor she was currently stuck in.

In her spars against Izumo and Kotetsu, she always had the space to maneuver, to run or to retreat.

But here? Nothing of the like.

And just like that, Sakura was struck by the realisation that she’d severely miscalculated. She’d tried to do too many things at once, never having a strong foundation to fall back on to begin with. She was confident in her genjutsu, but that was only because it was good enough to trap genin and a handful of chunin, but the only times she’d trapped Genma or Anko had been when they were fatigued, unwilling to break it or not expecting it. But these men, these ninja she was fighting were hardened, high-level shinobi, and Sakura knew that her genjutsu wouldn’t be something she could wholeheartedly depend on.

Same with her bukijutsu, which was passable in spars against the Twins, but here, she didn’t have the space that was necessary for that particular type of combat to work.

All she had was taijutsu and she knew that was not going to end well – her taijutsu from the start had been appalling, first because her vanity stopped her from actually putting in the effort because ‘ _Sasuke-kun doesn’t like sweaty girls_ ’, then because she’d convinced herself that she wouldn’t need it after Genma appeared in her life.

But as a rock-hard fist impacted her nose so hard that she saw stars, and she stumbled back, a cry of pain falling from her lips, Sakura came to the alarming realisation that there was a very high possibility she’d die here.

A primal, uncontrollable instinct to _survive_ took over her and motivated her to ignore the pain, to use her training to its fullest and _live another day_. She chanced a glance back in Tamaki’s direction, startled to see him produce a fireball that caught one of his enemy’s clothes and set it alight, punctuated with the man’s gasps and pained screams as he turned to run away, getting a kunai to the back of his head for his troubles. The light from the fire cast shadows on Tamaki’s face, making him look far more ethereal than Sakura thought possible, and definitely a far cry better than her own state. Almost as if he sensed her gaze on him, the blond turned towards her, the relief in his eyes at seeing that she was still reasonably alright overshadowed by the urgency in his gaze. “Sakura, run!” he called out, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she turned and saw that the two nin fighting her turned to look back at her comrade.

But the breath of relief caught in her throat and turned into a scream when suddenly, a spear of earth shot out of the walls, coiling like a snake before it flew towards Tamaki and separated into four thinner ones, each sharpening into a deadly point and piercing straight through the blond’s chest, stomach and sides. She didn’t have to be a qualified med-nin to know that all of them were aimed at internal organs. She saw a moment of comprehension in Tamaki’s eyes, before they dimmed and he slumped to the ground, unconscious or dead, she didn’t know.

Sakura felt bile come up her throat but she swallowed, ignoring the burn, then turned on her heel and bolted, for the second time that day.

She ran faster than she ever had before, ran blindly both due to the dark and the tears blurring her vision. She was no longer mindful of the chakra she was expending as she augmented her muscles and called up illusion after illusion, hoping to, if not trap, then at least slow down her pursuers.

And then, her foot caught, making her stumble and come to a stop. Resigning herself to her fate, Sakura turned around, used the precious few seconds she had gained to summon her weapons scroll, and drew out two kodachi. Not a second after she settled in her stance did the first of the ninja break out from the darkness, his eyes wide and disoriented. Sakura didn’t wait, didn’t think, she just _jumped_ _–_ the sharp edges of her kodachi found the delicate patch of unprotected neck and she slashed it brutally, opening the main artery and letting the man drop to the ground with a dull thud. She channelled chakra into her feet and kicked him in the head for good measure.

The second Iwa-nin rounded the corner in a much more cautious manner, and though Sakura knew that there was another one still to come, she could no longer count on the element of surprise. So she assessed her chakra levels, ruled out Earth Style ninjutsu and made her biggest gamble yet: flashing through handsigns she was only familiar with in theory, she took a deep breath and exhaled. Her chakra manifested in the form of clear, viscous syrup, far less than she knew Izumo to be capable of, but enough to trap her opponent nonetheless.

Then, in perhaps the stupidest move of the day, she threw a handful of kunai towards the man, and when she noted him raising his own kunai to deflect them, she curled her kodachi-wielding arm inwards and then, with a flick of chakra, released it.

The rotation of her weapon was violent enough to cut the man’s torso cleanly off from his legs.

By that point, the panic and fear and anger and grief had eclipsed her ability to feel disgust or guilt, so she didn’t even jump when she felt the last chakra signature emerge from one of the walls.

Despite the dark, Sakura thought she saw the man glance at his fallen comrades, then his attention was on her and the rosette bristled at what came from his mouth.

“Huh.” He mused, and in the back of her mind, Sakura realised that she’d heard this kind of amusedly detached tone before. “Seems that even mice will bite when cornered.” He observed, and the rosette snarled.

“Now, now,” he waved her off. “you’ve already lost a teammate, and you’re clearly tired. Just hand over the scroll, and I’ll even show you the way out of these tunnels.” He crooned, extending a hand and wiggling his fingers expectantly. Sakura’s response was to take two steps back, mind frantically searching for a solution to an open one on one.

She kept drawing a blank.

_Unless..._

She tried to inconspicuously dig through her weapons scroll, her fingers closing around a small sphere. She grit her teeth, yanked the fabric of her turtleneck further over her nose, and preyed. “Go fuck yourself.” She snarled, then took a deep breath, held it, and with all her pent up anger and grief and frustration, lobbed the glass sphere at the man’s face. He snorted, dug out a kunai, and went to deflect the bauble just inches from his face. Only instead of deflecting, the sphere shattered, and Sakura allowed herself one, sadistic grin of vindictive satisfaction as the contents spilled out, smacked a pressure-triggered explosive tag on the ground between her and the nin, then turned and fled back to where she’d come from.

She didn’t worry about the man giving chase. He wouldn’t be able to.

The bauble had been something she’d stolen from T&I that one time Anko took her along to show her exactly why it was called _Torture_ and Interrogation. The various metal instruments lining the walls had made her shiver and retch, but it was the small cases of poisons that truly caught her eye. Labelled meticulously, the function of each explained in small font, she waited till Anko turned her back on her and quickly grabbed two and shoved them in her weapons pouch.

This particular one had been labelled _Sarin gas._

Sakura knew what it did. On paper, it had sounded innocuous enough, almost benign, but Tsunade had been quick to set her straight when she’d asked about it innocently. She’d learnt that Sarin is odourless and clear, and that it begins with acetylcholine build-up. Nerves keep firing, noses run, eyes cry, the mouth drools and vomits, secretions go crazy. It is not a dignified state. Then, the chest tightens, and if the concentration of the poison was great enough, the symptoms progress to convulsions, paralysis, and then death.

 _And if he doesn’t die of the poison, the explosive tag will kill him._ she thought viciously.

She dashed back through the bodies littered on the ground, retraced her path, then finally arrived at her destination and collapsed on her knees by Tamaki’s side. She’d been wrong in her initial assessment of his injury – he was still alive, the light in his eyes not quite gone, but the wounds in his torso made Sakura almost vomit again. The decision to call up healing chakra was almost instantaneous – and for the first time, she didn’t have to think about synching her flow to that of her patient; Tamaki’s chakra, despite his systems slowly but surely shutting down, was thrumming a desperate rhythm like a humming bird, while her own energy – or all that was left of it – was circulating at the exact same frantic pace from a combination of fear and panic and exhaustion. So, calling up the last remnants of her chakra, she set her hands on his skin, intentionally not acknowledging the fact that she _could see his intestines oh sweet god –_ and set to work knitting the tissue back together.

After a few seconds, his eyes managed to focus, although it took him a minute to register precisely what she was doing, but when he did, his hand moved much quicker than Sakura would’ve thought possible and latched onto her wrist.

“Wh… Wha-at…” he croaked, then coughed with a sick, wet, rattling sound in his lungs, then tried again, “What a-are you… doing?” he asked, and despite the weakness of his voice and their position, he managed to make it sound like a demand. The rosette, too overwhelmed by the fact that he was still _alive_ and could speak _at all,_ merely raised her still green-glowing hands to her face so they were easier for him to see, and smiled hopefully. But Tamaki merely frowned. “Why… why are y-you w-wasting your… en-energy on me?”

This time, it was Sakura who frowned. “It’s not wasting if it’s keeping you _alive._ ” She replied, barely managing to keep the tears at bay. To her surprise, she saw his lips twitch up in a weak attempt at a smile and his hand made as if to cup her face but fell mid-motion to his lips as more wet-sounding coughs wrecked his frame. The rosette shook her head and resumed her task, the pain that had been zinging up and down her spine every time she moved temporarily pushed to the back of her mind as she focused wholeheartedly on healing her squadmate.

There was a crunch beside them and Sakura heard the grim, squelching sounds of someone moving behind them, but she only managed to glimpse an outstretched arm and an expression of unadulterated hatred on a mangled face before the cave around them rumbled and a huge shadow seemed to dislodge itself from the ceiling directly above her and Tamaki. She glanced back down, her eyes already adjusted enough to the dark that she managed to see the blond’s own eyes widen in alarm. Then she was being shoved aside, off of Tamaki, her shout of protest cut off as the shadow proved to be a giant boulder that had broken off the ceiling, and a whoosh of air and blinding pain were all she knew as the cave rumbled and shook around them, a scream – hers, Tamaki’s their enemy’s, she didn’t know – and then, darkness.

Suddenly, it all went quiet, and Sakura knew no more.

* * *

 

When she woke up, it was to the steady beeping of machinery by her side, a curious pressure on her thigh and the feeling of a much bigger hand squeezing her left one. She blinked a couple of times to try and get her eyes to focus, then noted a familiar head of brown hair by her side. 

_Genma._

He seemed to be asleep, his forehead resting on her thigh, his hair messy and greasy, for once free of its trademark bandana. Sakura briefly wondered just how long he'd been there and she felt a swell of affection for the brunet. She gently pried her hand from his, absently noting that her right arm was completely immobilised from shoulder to wrist, and ran her fingers through Genma's hair, lightly combing out the knots and smoothing it down into a more orderly fashion.

She wasn't surprised when the gentle touch proved to be enough to wake the brunet, and he slowly raised his head, instantly becoming alert when his eyes met hers. They studied each other for a few seconds, and Sakura's hand slowly fell away from his hair. Then, Genma breathed out a mix of a sigh and a tired chuckle and let his head drop again with a soft thump. 

"Never do that again." he demanded harshly, but Sakura saw the minute tremor in his hand that belied just how much of that surface anger was actually fear and relief deep down. She couldn't help the small smile that pulled at her lips, despite the guilt that ate at her on the inside.

"I'm sorry." she murmured as she resumed the mindless task of combing Genma's hair, no longer certain whether she was doing it to straighten it out or to ground herself. She glanced to the side[,](http://docs.google.com/Sakura%20saw%20the%20minute%20tremor%20in%20his%20hand%20that%20belied%20just%20how%20much%20of%20that%20surface%20anger%20was%20actually%20fear%20and%20relief%20deep%20down.%20She%20couldn%27t%20help%20the%20small%20smile%20that%20pulled%20at%20her%20lips,%20despite%20the%20guilt%20that%20ate%20at%20her%20on%20the%20inside.) startled by the amount of flowers she saw on her bedside. "Who...?" she trailed off uncertainly, but Genma didn't even need to raise his head to know what she was talking about.

"Kotetsu, Izumo, the Nara brat, some Hyuuga kid, Anko - take your pick." he mumbled, voice muffled by the covers.

Sakura's attention was drawn to the last name. "Senpai? She didn't strike me as the type to bring flowers." she observed, frowning.

Genma snorted, and finally raised his head, the look in his eyes far colder than she'd expected. "Not to hospitals, no. Anko's got a bit of a reputation for bringing home corpses instead of teammates." he bit out, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, it's just - I know it's not her fault, that it was dodgy info and nothing more, but if I think that it could've been - that it-!”

"-that it could've been me instead of Tamaki?" she finished for him, and noted how he tensed, his posture answer enough. "It could've been. Really, being perfectly honest, it _should've_ been me. He pushed me away, Genma. I've no delusions that I would've survived had he not done that." and though her voice shook, she knew they both needed to hear it.

The tokujo eyed her for a moment longer, then sighed, and his shoulders sagged as if a weight had been lifted off of them. “Then I’m grateful.” He murmured at last, then used his free hand to prop his chin up, elbow resting on the mattress. “Anko brought over some papers for you, by the way. Said she’ll understand if you choose to resign from T&I, and that she’s sorry she dragged you through that mission.” He informed her, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly when his words seemed to break through Sakura’s melancholy and grief and produce an expression of stupefied surprise.

“’Resign’?” she parroted, “Why would I do that? Does Anko not want me around anymore?” she asked, confusion and a flash of hurt bleeding through her wide eyes. She calmed down when Genma shook his head, no.

“You don’t seem to have registered what I said earlier – Anko’s got a reputation, but she knows she’s got it. She’s seen it happen before, she’s had people refuse to go on missions with her or listen to her orders because they think she’s cursed with ‘eternal bad luck’ – she’s giving you an easy out, if you want to take it.” He explained patiently, idly picking at the covers though his eyes were sharp as they studied the rosette’s expression.

“Well, I don’t! And I think that she’s stupid for thinking that I would!” she snapped, eyes flashing with anger this time as she sat up in her indignation, only to hiss and gently lower herself back onto the pillows when white-hot pain shot up her shoulder and down her back.

“Easy there,” Genma murmured, hand moving from picking at the sheets to gently patting her thigh. “and that’s precisely what I told her when she came to drop these off, but she didn’t believe me.” He added, and Sakura shot him a small smile, then scowled.

“I’m going to give her a piece of my mind as soon as I’m out of here.” She vowed, only to frown worriedly when Genma’s smile flickered and fell completely. “Genma? What’s wrong?”

The tokujo sighed, suddenly sombre. “You might want to find out exactly what happened on the mission before you do that.” He advised gravely, and Sakura paled.

“What… what do you mean?”

For the first time since she woke up, Genma looked angry. “As soon as she knew it was an ambush, Anko sent one of her snakes back to the Village with the request for back-up. The words ‘Iwa’ and ‘back-up’ together changed the content of the squad from a combat team to a search and recovery team – medic, sensor-nin, and a sealing expert. They already wrote you off as dead before they even found you.”

Sakura was surprised – she didn’t even see Anko send the snakes, nor did she know that there were specific build-ups of back-up teams. Genma didn’t pause to let her mull over this new information and merely barrelled on, fuelled by the bizarre anger she’d noticed earlier, though she still didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it.

“But even though Anko called for back-up when the situation was taking place, it still took the team over two days to get there. It would’ve taken even longer if the guy on your team hadn’t been a sensor-type himself. They’d found Anko unconscious, hidden in some shrubs outside the cave. They reckon she managed to crawl out, take a blood-replenishing pill and cover herself before she passed out, but you were still in the cave. They went in, and the only reason you’re still here is because the sealing expert was a Byakugan user – you used so much of your chakra that the sensor-nin couldn’t feel you, and the medic very nearly pronounced you dead on the spot once they found you. Broken collarbone, shattered right arm, severe blood loss, ripped open wound above your left hip, evidence of poisoning... I could go on.”

Sakura’s eyes grew as wide as saucers when Genma’s voice lost all its inflection at the end.

“You were in that cave for over _two days,_ half-crushed by a boulder bigger than the KIA Memorial and your team leader unable to get you out. And you’ve already been _here_ for eight days.” He paused, his eyes cold though the anger had now receded. “So don’t be so quick to dismiss Anko’s concerns. _Nobody_ would be surprised if you ended it here and now.”

The rosette took a moment to think over exactly what Genma was saying. She remembered feeling overwhelmed, the fact that she was stretching herself too thin had finally caught up with her in the caves and yet… when she thought of leaving T&I, of leaving Anko, she realised she didn’t want to. But she couldn’t keep going as she had been – that was far too risky, and there was nothing that could ensure that no other mission would go as badly as this one. In fact, she had to be prepared for the eventuality that _all_ of her missions would go like this one from here on out.

“I think I lost you.” Genma interrupted her thought process, a small grin on his face when she jumped. “I want you to know that I’m not mad at you.” He told her honestly, and Sakura nodded hesitantly, grateful. “And that I will support you, whatever you choose to do.”

Sakura nodded again, albeit slower this time, her eyes not leaving Genma’s. _I could tell him…_ she mused as her eyes flickered from the reassuring smile to the hand now rubbing comforting circles into her thigh through the blanket. Then, she smiled.

And spilled everything.

A few minutes later, they had worked through the problem to a solution that suited them both, Genma proceeded to congratulate Sakura on her first successful healing – (“The med-nin called it _barbaric_ , just sheer will power and chakra, but even he couldn’t deny that it was an admirable effort.”) – and the rosette felt her eyes start to drop, fatigue caused by the medication and her rampant emotions making her drowsy. Tomorrow, or whenever she was released, she’d go to Anko, talk things through and assure her that she would stay in T&I. She’d also go to Tsunade-sama and thank her for taking her under her wing, but explain that she realised the life of a med-nin wasn’t for her – (Genma had been surprised when she told him she didn’t want to admit that she could heal – she’d proceeded to explain that she saw how understaffed the Hospital was, and she knew that the moment Tsunade knew she could heal well enough in the field, she’d be shafted off into the hospital, and she was selfish enough to want to avoid that. Genma had laughed but hadn’t protested beyond that.) – and she’d resume her more regular spars and practice with Genma and the Twins.

If there was anything that her experience during the recent mission had taught her, it was that having her fingers in too many pots was never a good thing, and since she’d began this whole crazy adventure with the ambition of at some point specialising in genjutsu, she’d get over herself and _focus on genjutsu_ , damn it.

It was with that resolve that Sakura allowed the darkness to take over her vision as she succumbed into the need for sleep.

* * *

 

Next time she came to, she was drenched in sweat and panting, the heart monitor beside her beeping frantically and her eyes brimming with tears as Tamaki’s face swam in her mind, his eyes accusatory, his lips twisted in a grimace as they shaped words that dug deeper than any blade Sakura knew; _“Your fault.”_ They seemed to say. _“I could’ve survived, I could’ve lived, it should’ve been you not me._ ” And though Sakura knew, logically, that he had never said those words and that his eyes had never looked on her with so much hatred and disgust, in her frayed state, the line between what was real and what was her mind playing tricks on her was becoming dangerously blurred.

She dug the fingers of her left hand into her hair as she curled into herself and _pulled_ , ignoring the stab of pain in her shoulder and the snot and tears that stained the pillow.

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed, pulling tighter and breathing erratically. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry…”

Sakura vaguely registered someone coming into her room and the pinch of a needle going into her skin before her eyes slid shut and darkness stole over her yet again.

* * *

 

The next morning, Sakura sat still as a nurse bustled around her, changing her IV drip and passing her green-glowing hands over her shoulder with a satisfied click of her tongue, not smiling, not moving, merely responding to the ‘does it hurt?’ and ‘can you move it?’ questions when asked.

The nurse shot her an apologetic smile and with a gentle pat to her thigh told her she could expect to stay in hospital for at least another three days before they could dismiss her, and Sakura mustered enough energy to thank her for her honesty and smile as she left. The smile melted away the second she was alone again, the nightmare from the previous night still fresh in her mind.

She didn’t dare close her eyes again.

And then, she finally realised that there was another chakra signature in the room with her, and she tensed. The fact that she vaguely recognised it was the only thing that kept her from screaming or making a mad dash for the scalpel on the tray in the corner. Instead, she sat stock-still and calmly called out; “Who’s there?”

“Mou, it hurts that you don’t recognise your own sensei.” Came a familiar voice, and a second later, Kakashi appeared in her line of vision, stepping out from behind the curtain that would normally separate her bed from the other occupants of the room.

“Ah, Kakashi… sensei.” She added hesitantly, her suspicion more important than the relief that washed over her at seeing a familiar face and not one of the Iwa-nin. “What are you doing here?” she asked curiously, for once unconcerned by her bluntness.

A strange expression flashed through Kakashi’s one visible eye, but then it closed in the trademark fake smile. “I’m merely visiting my student in the hospital. Why so suspicious, Sakura-chan?” Sakura couldn’t help the way the corner of her lips twitched downwards at the honorific. It had been a while since anyone had called her that.

“It’s just that I haven’t seen you since before I left on the mission to Kiri.” She explained with a one-armed shrug, suddenly feeling awkward. “I was surprised, is all.”

Kakashi tilted his head, the move even less genuine than the smile. “Yes, it has been a while since we’ve had a nice teacher-student moment. You’ve been quite busy.” He mused, and Sakura was about to retort before she recognised the accusation that lay beneath the seemingly innocuous observation. She grit her teeth, too tired and emotionally exhausted to just let it slide.

“It goes both ways.” She retorted sharply, far more alert than she was at the start of the conversation, and far more defensive. Kakashi froze for a split-second, his smile dropping the slightest bit before it reappeared, albeit ever-so-slightly more strained.

“Beg your pardon?” he asked, voice still teasing, but the rosette was in no mood to apologise or try to take the proverbial ‘out’ that he offered. If he had a reason for catching her in her hospital room after pretending she didn’t exist for almost half a year, then she was going to get him to admit to it straight up.

“I said that it goes both ways. Communication, that is. I have been busy, and I apologise for that, but you also know where I live and I assume you’ve heard where I work. Besides, you could’ve had the ninken find me if you were _really_ struggling. So, allow me to reiterate – why are you _here_ , sensei?” Sakura explained, not letting her gaze drop from that of her old sensei even when her eyes started to burn from not blinking.

Then, Kakashi broke the impromptu staring contest and sighed. “Mou, you’ve grown so confrontational, Sakura-chan~! What happened to the timid little mouse you were at Graduation?”

Sakura had a sudden flashback to the tunnels, to the last man, to the distantly amused _“Even mice will bite when cornered.”_ and she could feel herself panicking. She took a deep breath and pinched the delicate skin of her thigh, then regarded her old teacher with as much calm as she could master.

“She grew up.” And then, because the world was intent on reminding her all her failures and short-sightedness of the last few months, Kakashi snorted.

“Clearly.” He remarked, his smile suddenly gone and his posture a lot more tense than mere seconds ago. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. What happened, Sakura?”

When all Sakura did was blink confusedly at his sudden 180, he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, levelling her with the flattest stare she’d ever seen from him which sent a shiver down her spine.

“I want to know what happened, Sakura. Why you thought going to Kirigakure, of all places, was a good idea when your meagre skillset could’ve easily gotten you killed. I want to know why you chose a jounin who didn’t need you over a teammate. Did I not manage to get through to you about the importance of teamwork? I caught Naruto as he was leaving and he told me you have no intention of going after Sasuke – do you not believe he deserves a second chance? And joining T&I – what are you trying to prove, Sakura? That is the most undesirable division in the Village for a reason; what were you thinking of when you applied? Because it won’t bring you fame nor positive renown, if that’s what you’re after. I just want to understand you, Sakura-chan. And all you’ve done is isolate yourself from your friends and people who care about you and can help you. And what for? It’s not good for you. Your current predicament is proof enough.”

Silence reigned in the room.

Absently, Kakashi noted that Sakura was shaking – her head was lowered, bangs obscuring her vision, and fine, pronounced tremors shook her small frame with every breath. He reached out to pat her head like he would one of his ninken and was about to rattle off something about how ‘a good cry is always useful and he was glad she saw his point of view’ when a pale hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist in a tight grip, aborting its motion before it could so much as disturb a single hair on her head.

Then, Sakura looked up at him through her bangs, and Kakashi’s visible eye widened in shock. Indeed, there were tears in her eyes, tears he himself had brought into existence with his words, but the expression on the rosette’s face was not one of guilt or sadness, no. It was pure, unadulterated anger and indignation, and her lips pulled back in a snarl even as a tear spilled down her cheek.

“’What for’?” she parroted, and her voice was surprisingly stable, quiet. “Are you actually asking me what I did all that _for_? Isn’t it obvious?” when he remained silent, the rosette actually snorted and dropped his wrist like it burned her. “Who would’ve thought – Genma was actually right. Again.” When he scowled at the name, she gazed at him from under her bangs with something like pity in her eyes. “You really have no idea how to teach, do you, sensei?”

“Now wait a minute-!” he began, growing angry himself, but Sakura cut him off.

“No, you’ve said your bit, let me say mine!” she swiped at her eyes with the heel of her left palm and glared at him. “I did all those things because you didn’t give a rat’s ass about me or my progress!” she exclaimed, her glare turning accusatory. “I realised after Wave that I couldn’t go on as I had been, ‘cause even though you didn’t seem to see any value in teaching me or telling me I was subpar, I realised I wasn’t good enough and had to do something about it. So sue me, I went to the library and studied, since that’s all you and Iruka-sensei seemed to think me capable of, that’s what I did. And I learnt and I practised, but I needed a teacher, and when you seemed to find more interest in your porn books than you did in making sure the adolescents you were put in charge of actually survive teenagehood, I needed a teacher!” she paused for breath and to assess how much of what she was saying was actually getting through to her teacher. He stood stock-still and staring at her with narrowed eyes, so she took that as her cue to continue.

“Genma found me in the library. He _offered_ to help me. He knew who you were, and for some reason, he knew exactly why I wasn’t being taught the way I should’ve been, so he was the one who helped me work through what I’d read in the library. He was the one who made sure my gear kit was field-ready, and he was the direct reason as to why I managed to beat Ino in the Preliminaries. Beat Ino while also beating a record, at that.” She couldn’t help but rub in, noting the twitch of Kakashi’s hand that belied his annoyance. “You knew I was a genjutsu type the second I was sorted into your team – don’t pretend like you didn’t,” she cut him off when she saw him draw a breath to contradict her, “I saw my file – it has ‘genjutsu type’ written there and dated with my Graduation. And yet you didn’t do anything to help me work with that. I didn’t learn anything from you! Even tree-climbing was something you merely _showed_ us, then left us to fend for ourselves. So don’t be surprised I sought out other teachers, _especially_ not after you dismissed me with some _post-it note_ about why you hadn’t found a teacher for me for the second stage of the Chunin Exams! No civilian-raised genin has a network of contacts and educators they can fall back on when something like that happened – what did you expect me to do? Forefeit?” she paused to highlight the incredulity of her statement, but the look on Kakashi’s face made her pale.

“Oh my Kami.” She breathed in realisation, disbelief and hysteria warring within her in equal parts. “That’s _exactly_ what you expected me to do.” She sat silently for a few more seconds, staring at her sensei as if in a new light, then continued, her voice softer, almost muted.

“And yet you wonder why I sought support from anywhere else but you. Had you been me, would you have been confident enough to seek tutelage from a teacher who ignored you for the vast majority of the time you were in his care? Because I wasn’t.” she took a breath, chose not to address exactly what happened during the Chunin Exams, and moved on. “My parents were killed during the Invasion.” She confessed, and saw Kakashi flinch. “Naruto didn’t know.” Another flinch. “But I know you must’ve known.” No reaction. Sakura snorted – she’d gone right past disbelief and indignation and straight into bitter amusement. “That’s why I moved in with Genma; my old house had been razed to the ground. And even when the rebuilding efforts were done with it, it was filled with ghosts, so I stayed with Genma. The mission to Wave was Tsunade-sama’s way of testing me and Shikamaru in our new position as chunin. It was also a way for me to break free of the poisonous atmosphere that surrounded me every time I interacted with Naruto or Sasuke. The former was jealous of my promotion while the Uchiha resented my very existence, and yet, you did nothing. You couldn’t _not_ have noticed – what was it you told us during the bell test? To ‘look underneath the underneath’? So I knew you were aware of what was going on, yet the fact that you chose to be a bystander instead of step in and set them right hurt even more than Sasuke’s bitterness. And I couldn’t forgive that, so I took a break. And the diplomatic mission was precisely what I needed, and even if you think my ‘meagre’ skills could’ve gotten me killed, they were enough for me to spar with a Mist hunter-nin and win the friendship of one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist.” She saw Kakashi tense at that, as if he hadn’t been aware of that particular tidbit of information, and she tried to make her vindictive smirk a little less… _vindictive._

“Afterwards… well. You know exactly what happened. And I’ll have you know, that if I were given the choice to save Genma or the Uchiha, I would choose Genma every single time. Not because he was useful to me, or because I feel obliged to help him for all that he’d done for me, but because the bonds I’ve managed to forge with him even in that short amount of time ran deeper than any bond I could’ve ever forget with Sasuke, even if he hadn’t turned into a traitorous maggot.” Kakashi almost jumped at the insult that left Sakura’s mouth, but the rosette was relentless.

“And that includes my bond with you, sensei. I don’t feel like you’ve ever given a single damn about me, so why should I seek you out? Why should I feel guilty for ‘isolating myself’ as you put it, when really, I merely cut off people who didn’t support me in life and surrounded myself with people who understand me and my goals? I’m far from isolated – in fact, I’d say I’m better off now than I was when I was still an active part of Team 7. I have friends in Chojuro, Neji-san, Shikamaru, the Twins, Tonbo-san; I have a mission partner and confidante in Shikamaru, I have a senpai in Anko, and a guardian and partner in Genma. I am far more sociable and integrated into our Village’s society than I was a year ago. And I wouldn’t change that, sensei. Even if you want me to.”

Kakashi seemed to consider her words, then sighed. “The world out there is dangerous, Sakura-chan. I’m not sure you’ve realised that, because you’ve never truly been in a life-threatening situation, never had your skills tested to their limits, never had a comrade die in your arms, but what awaits you outside the gates is not something you can prepare for with a bunch of friends and wishful thinking. I’m just worried.” He replied, eye-crinkle back in place and his hand finally landed unimpeded on Sakura’s head and patted her hair.

But the rosette was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head while speaking. “Never… been in a life-threatening situation?” she repeated slowly, trying to convince herself that her sensei _really had just said that._ “Sensei, I… I don’t really know what to tell you.” She admitted, ignoring the man’s smug look at her confession as she went on. “But I’m wondering whether you’re secretly either blind or stupid.” Kakashi’s surprised guffaw made her feel a sick twist of vindictive satisfaction in her gut. “Because I nearly died _on this very mission I just got back from_. So I’m wondering if you either didn’t know that and thought that I’m in the hospital just for the fun of it, or if we’ve got slightly different standards for what’s considered a ‘life-threatening’ situation.” She told him frankly, then flashed him the most saccharine smile she could force her facial muscles into, recalling the way Anko behaved that one time she let her observe an interrogation. She knew, simply from the way Kakashi stilled, that her expression must’ve mirrored his own at his most insincere. “And I actually watched my teammate die right before my eyes last week. While I was healing him. When I knew I could _finish_ healing him. But he pushed me out of the way of a giant boulder and let himself be crushed instead of me.” She was conscious to never let her smile slip while she admitted that, even when it tore at the very fibre of her being and brought flashes of her nightmare to the very forefront of her mind. “So, let me reiterate,” she concluded, hating herself slightly when her voice shook. “I know our world is dangerous.” She felt a tear slide down her cheek from her still squeezed-tight eyes. “Trust me, I _know._ ”

She was saved from having to continue the conversation when the door banged open and the temperature in the room suddenly dropped by a good ten degrees. Sakura pried her eyes open and spied Genma standing in the doorway, Anko peeking into the room over his shoulder. But her eyes were on the tokujo and she shivered when she realised that she’d never seen him look so angry. His eyes flickered briefly to her, from her distraught expression to the tears still flowing down her cheeks, then he glanced back at Anko and jerked his head in Sakura’s direction before he zeroed in on Kakashi who’d gone tense.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Genma murmured, voice deceptively soft and quiet as he moved closer to where her old sensei was standing. Anko took that as her cue to migrate to Sakura’s bedside, settling down in the uncomfortable plastic chair and sending her a cautious glance. When Sakura shot a small smile back at her, the jounin relaxed and quirked her lips back, then glanced over at the two men and back at Sakura with a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘Get a load of this, huh?’.

Sakura focused entirely on the stare-down taking place between the two jounin, and the outright _hostile_ way the two were staring each other down. She felt worry twist in her gut and decided to break the silence that had fallen over the room like a suffocating blanket.

“G-Genma?” she called, wiping the tear-tracks from her cheeks as she peered up at the brunet. “Is everything alright?”

She could _feel_ Anko’s surprise when the tokujo quickly turned to her and flashed her a reassuring grin and a thumbs-up; “Yeah, all’s peachy kid, don’t worry your lil’ head. Your _sensei_ and I are just gonna have a few words. Don’t wait up~!” he told her cheerfully, then grabbed Kakashi by the lapels of his flak jacket, and with the signature ‘poof’ and small cloud of smoke, both were gone from the room.

“What the hell?” Anko mused from her side, then quickly covered her mouth when Sakura turned to look at her curiously.

“Something wrong, senpai?” she asked, not missing how Anko’s eyes widened at the title, but she seemed to dismiss it for the time being, frowning instead as her caramel eyes flickered back to where Genma had been standing just seconds previous.

“Is he always like that?” she asked at last, turning back to look at Sakura.

The rosette frowned, not understanding what she was referring to. “What do you mean?”

“That… nice, I guess. Considerate. I don’t wanna say ‘easy-going’ cause he always seems to be quite relaxed, but just then-” she paused, shook her head as if to dismiss a particularly ridiculous thought, then continued. “Just then, I could tell he was going to beat Hatake’s ass. Like, he was ready to _murder,_ comradeship or Sharingan be damned. But he still shoved all that down and was the very picture of reassuring talking to you.”

Sakura mulled that over, realising that she hadn’t even thought the sudden change in mood as odd until Anko brought it up. In the end, she shrugged. “He’s always been like that.” She admitted, though elaborated at her senpai’s raised eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve seen him annoyed, exasperated, surprised and worried, yeah, but, I mean, he’s always been considerate towards _me_? Or if he got annoyed it was because I made him worry ‘cause I did something stupid/dangerous and he was being passive-aggressive when expressing his worry.”

Anko stared at her for a few seconds, seeming to consider something, then snorted. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s not like you were any better that time in the Jounin HQ.” she added, smirking when the rosette bristled.

“He _deserved it._ ” Sakura hissed angrily, glaring at the wall as if imagining the chunin’s face painted there.

“Damn right he did.” Anko agreed easily, apparently startling the rosette who blinked at her owlishly before breaking out into a small smile, feeling a thread of understanding pass between them.

Then, she just had to break the peaceful spell and glared at the jounin, clearly startling her. “Also, _senpai_ ,” she stressed the title, making Anko frown. “can I just say that I think you really don’t know me at _all_ if you think I’d drop the apprenticeship just because of this mission.”

It was Anko’s turn to gawk at her for a few seconds, clearly stupefied, before something like relief and _gratitude?_ flashed through her eyes. Then, she scowled, though even Sakura could tell that the annoyed look was faked. “Is that any way to speak to your superior, brat?” she demanded, then smirked. “But fine. I expect you back in T&I the day after you’re released from this bed, no excuses.” And then, she moved as if to ruffle Sakura’s hair but her hand paused mid-motion. Instead of letting it fall away though, she changed its course to she ended up lightly smacking the back of the rosette’s head like a naughty kid. “Annoying brat, making me worry.” She grumbled, then before Sakura could turn her surprised eyes onto her, she disappeared with the same technique as Genma had.

Sakura briefly wondered how she’d managed to surround herself with people so against using the door, then shrugged it off, unable to get rid of the small smile that tugged at her lips. She was emotionally as well as physically exhausted, and she knew that her relationship with her old sensei was still rocky at best, and it would probably only get worse before – if ever – it managed to get better, but it felt good to speak her mind at last. And she’s managed to sort things with Anko as an additional perk, so she really couldn’t complain.

So it was with a smile on her face that she let her eyes flutter shut; she fell asleep relaxed, unburdened, and even the nightmare was far from her mind when sleep finally claimed her.

* * *

 

When she was finally released, Sakura’s first stop was the Hokage’s office. As she stood before the Godaime, the blonde’s full attention focused on her – something which, not too long ago would’ve made her incredibly nervous – she met Tsunade’s eyes head on, before she broke the eye contact off to bow, a smile on her face.

“Thank you for your time and patience, Tsunade-sama, however, in retrospect, I think I overestimated how much I would be able to handle at once.” She began, getting a raised eyebrow in response, but she didn’t let that deter her; she had something to say, after all. “My latest mission made me realise that I’ve been neglecting my personal training in favour of doing everything I could to advance through the ranks. I think the fact that the mission nearly ended with my death was what opened my eyes to what and a handful of others have been trying to tell me from the start.” She admitted, making sure to add just the right mix of apologetic and embarrassed to her tone.

She nearly smirked when Tsunade shot her a sympathetic smile. “You finally realised you bit off more than you could chew?” she asked, though not unkindly.

“Yes.” Sakura replied, and made sure her expression was even more regretful than before. “And I thought it over and decided that I will put my medical studies on hold for a moment and concentrate on my T&I apprenticeship and individual training. Perhaps, once I’m a jounin I’ll return to hospital work, but for the time being, I think I’m done.” She bowed again, deeper this time. “Thank you for all your time and instruction, Tsunade-sama, and I apologise for the fact that I couldn’t see our six months through to the end.”

Tsunade waved her off. “You already made far more progress than I ever expected you to, to be honest. I’m sure it’ll be a lot easier to pick up if you ever do return to it than it was this time round.” She looked the rosette up and down curiously. “So, what’s your plan now?”

Sakura paused, thrown off by the sudden interest, then rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “Mainly to focus on genjutsu and bukijutsu. I realised I’ll never have the reserves necessary to excel in ninjutsu, but if I dedicate myself to genjutsu I won’t _need_ that. And I need to find someone to help me build up my taijutsu, because I realised that although it’ll never be my go-to fighting style, it is good to have something more than just the bare bones taught in the Academy under my belt.”

Tsunade nodded in acknowledgement. “Well then, Haruno, I wish you the best of luck. And make sure to take some rest days as well this time – I would’ve thought you of all people would know the danger of burning out better than most.”

This time, Sakura didn’t have to fake her sheepish smile and she bowed again for good measure. “Thank you, Tsunade-sama.” Then turned on her heel and left.

She found Genma waiting for her on the other side of the door, arms crossed over his chest and signature senbon clutched between his teeth.

“Ready, kid?” he greeted, and Sakura couldn’t help the smile that pulled at her lips.

“Ready.” She reaffirmed, and they walked out of the Hokage Tower, side by side.

She was tired, achy, and her arm was still in its sling, but she felt as if she could take over the world.

_Things were going to change._


	13. Complications

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! it's been a while, sorry for that! I hope everyone's Christmas has been lovely (if you celebrated) and that 2017 hasn't been TOO awful ;)
> 
> TW:  
> now, just to be clear: this contains mentions of PTSD, nightmares, panic attacks and disassociation. its not addressed in TOO much depth, but if that makes you in any way uncomfortable, be warned. I've updated the tags just in case. 
> 
> this is a bit of a filler chapter, in the sense that it's not action-heavy as such, but some of ur faves make an appearance/return so I hope u enjoy!
> 
> (I recently realised that this fic is now longer than HP Prisoner of Azkaban!!! can u believe that?!)
> 
> as always, drop a comment, I do love reading your thoughts!

_Things were going to change._

And change they did.

The first night back in her own bed found her being shaken awake by Genma, sweat drenching her pyjamas and gasping for breath.

“Sakura!” Genma’s voice cut through the delirium of her mind, and she blinked repeatedly to get rid of the afterimage of Tamaki’s hateful sneer and bloodied hands reaching out towards her, till she could finally focus on the brunet’s face.

“H-Huh?” she choked out, suddenly realising that her throat was unbearably sore. _From screaming,_ she realised with a start.

The look in Genma’s eyes softened and he perched on the edge of her bed. “D’you wanna talk about it?” he murmured, running a hand through his loose hair. When Sakura shook her head, no, he sighed. “It’s about that mission, isn’t it?” he asked instead.

She nodded before she could stop herself, then sighed and gave in. “I keep seeing his face. Talking to me. Blaming me. And the more I watch him die, over and over again, the more I struggle to differentiate between the dream and the real memories.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s my fault, I know it is. It’s just… it hurts so much more when it’s _him_ saying it.” Back at the hospital, she’d had the luxury of a nurse who would come in the second she started screaming or thrashing in her sleep and administer a sedative, so the rest of the night would be spent in blissful darkness, no dreams to be had. But back at home, she had no such luxuries, and it was slowly starting to get to her.

Genma was silent for a moment, then Sakura felt the mattress dip and a warmth settle by her side, not quite touching, but near enough to draw comfort from. She risked a glance to the side and realised that Genma had propped himself up against her headboard, eyes staring ahead and back leaning against the multitude of pillows on her bed, with his arm resting on top of the headboard in a relaxed lounge.

“It’s always difficult when your subconscious turns against you.” He spoke at last. “But it’s also normal. There are therapists and psychologists which could work through those dreams with you, help you compartmentalise and differentiate between dream and reality. I could go with you, if you want.” While he’d been speaking, Sakura had slowly shuffled backwards and settled beside him.

“Would it… do you think it would help?” she asked at last. In the darkness of the room, she felt more than saw Genma’s shrug.

“It helps a lot of people. It helped me. It’s certainly the healthiest solution to nightmares.” Then he sighed, suddenly sounding world-weary. “Every shinobi has their demons. Unfortunately, the missions you go on can have one of two effects on you; they can either feed the demons, make them peskier and more difficult to ignore, or they can desensitize you. Neither option is that great for your psyche or your sleep schedule, but at least there are ways of dealing with option one. The reason I suggested therapy is not because I think you mentally unstable, but because the earlier you learn how to deal with your demons in a healthy manner, the better it’ll be for you in the long-run.”

Somehow, the rosette found herself slumped against Genma, her eyelids heavy and a warmth that had nothing to do with her thick blanket nor the warm body next to her settling over her. She blinked herself awake and pondered over the brunet’s words.

“I would like that.” She conceded at last, stifling a yawn. “Thank you.”

Then, suddenly curious and far too comfortable to worry whether she was breaking some unspoken pact, she voiced what had been on her mind for almost a week. “What did Kakashi say to you? When you left my hospital room?” she mumbled, face half-buried in Genma’s shirt.

She felt more than heard him sigh, and a hand settled lightly on her head. “You should sleep. I’ll tell you some other time.”

But Sakura wasn’t so tired as to miss a diversion as obvious as that, so she forced herself to sit up and blink blearily at the brunet, then poked him in the chest. “You and I both know that you have no intention of telling me if I let it go now.” She accused, then when she saw him roll his eyes and smile, she settled back on her makeshift pillow and waited.

“He said you’d go dark.” Genma said at last. Before Sakura could try and form the words to ask _what on earth that meant,_ he clarified. “’Going dark’ is a colloquialism for shinobi who stop caring. Who become detached from those around them, who take dangerous missions, who stop caring whether they live or die. Funny thing is, when I was younger, the people who were the personification of ‘dark’ were Anko and Hatake himself, so I have no idea what right he thinks he has to tell me that that’s why he’s ‘concerned’ for you. He can’t even take care of himself, the idiot.” Genma took a deep, steadying breath. “But that doesn’t matter. It’s not as if I’d let you just stop acting like a teenager all of a sudden.”

Sakura hid her smile and tried to sound indignant. “’ _Let me_ ’?” she parroted, though she knew that she sounded far more fond than cross.

To her amusement, Genma didn’t try to back out and chuckled instead, lightly patting her head. “Well, yeah. We live under the same roof, in case you forgot. It’s not like I wouldn’t notice it, and if you think that I wouldn’t drag you to a therapist the moment I _did_ notice, then you clearly don’t know me at all, kid.”

Sakura smiled, reassured and relieved, and blindly reached up to pat Genma’s head in return. “I’m glad. Thank you, Genma.” Satisfied, she let her hand drop, closed her eyes and burrowed further into her makeshift pillow.

The last thing she registered was a quiet chuckle and gentle fingers carding through her hair before she drifted off.

She slept peacefully.

* * *

 

When she awoke in the morning, the sun was high in the sky and the bed beside her was cold. She stumbled out of her bedroom, rubbing at her eyes and noting with no small amount of surprise that it was well past ten o’clock and the house was strangely silent. Then, her eyes zeroed in on an envelope on the kitchen counter with her name on it, and a post-it note stuck to the fridge. She went to the note first –

‘ _Sorry, kid, got called out on a mission this morning, should be back within a week though. I would’ve woken you up, but it looked like you needed the rest. Take care of yourself, and here’s the address for the place I told you about last night: -xxxxxxxxxxxxx-’_

Smiling wryly, Sakura folded up the note and placed it by the door, so she would remember to grab it on her way out, then moved towards the envelope. She almost squealed when she realised it was a response from Chōjūrō –

_Dear Sakura-san,_

_I’m very happy you like my gift, and that you seem to be doing well for yourself. Thank you also for your faith in me – the reason for the extra delay to my reply was because I took part in the Jounin Exams – and I am pleased to announce that I passed. I am now officially a jounin of Kirigakure and Mei-sama’s bodyguard._

_A month of D-Ranks as punishment? I wonder what you did. Perhaps I’ll hear it when we see each other again._

_The scale of improvements in Kirigakure is incredible – since foreign merchants have been allowed in, and Kiri merchants are now free to trade with Konoha, our economy has improved at a rapid rate, and it is_ still _improving. The people seem more hopeful, happier, and who knows, maybe this will help destroy the stereotypes and prejudice towards Konoha-nin in the future? We have clung to antiquated views for far too long._

_I have already received my Konohagakure headband, sorry to disappoint you. I would also like to reassure you that you do not need to send me any ‘presents’ – your friendship is reward enough._

_My birthday is on the 1 st of November (it’ll soon be my 16th birthday). My favourite colour is, perhaps surprisingly, not blue, but the deep, warm pink you sometimes see in sunsets. It’s rare to see it in Kiri due to the weather, but whenever I do manage to see it, it makes me very happy, even though it’s such a trivial thing. I don’t really have a favourite food – I like anything, as long as it is not oily. I do like pocky as a snack though._

_How about yourself? I know your birthday and your penchant for sweet things, but I do have to admit that I had been wondering about the slightly more personal things. I apologise for sounding so forward – you do not have to answer if you do not wish to._

_All the best,_

_-Chōjūrō_

Sakura couldn’t help the dopey smile once she finished reading, though she forced herself to put the letter down and find some breakfast – she had only three hours left till she needed to be at the T&I office, and she planned to stop by the address Genma had indicated, but she wasn’t even dressed yet!

After hurrying through breakfast and her usual routine, she was dressed and out the door fifteen minutes later, hair brushed into its standard ponytail with Chōjūrō’s hairpin attached underneath and T&I uniform in place. It took her a few minutes to find the building, and she was rather surprised to note, once she did locate the street, that it was on the back of the T&I building, only it wasn’t built of the same imposing grey cement and metal as her work, but painted a light green colour which somehow managed to blend perfectly into its surroundings. Upon entering, she discovered a receptionist sitting in the lobby, much the same as in T&I. The man regarded her with a bored expression, lazily flicking a pen between his fingers.

“G-good morning,” Sakura greeted quietly, “I’d like-”

“Therapy, group sessions or counselling.” The man cut her off rather rudely, “take your pick.”

“U-uh, therapy, I guess.” She replied, inwardly grateful Anko wasn’t there to watch her stumble over herself lest she’d get a serious telling off.

“Do you have an appointment?”

Sakura blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Ah, no, I wasn’t aware I needed-” she started to say, only to be cut off again.

“That’s fine. What’s your name?” the receptionist interrupted, and by now Sakura was starting to lose her shyness and get progressively more annoyed.

“Sakura Haruno.” She bit out, only to stall when the receptionist’s facial expression changed for the first time since she’d walked in; now it showed the mildest of interests she’d ever seen, and she’d dealt with Sasuke’s microexpressions for over four years.

“Turns out you do have an appointment, Haruno.” The receptionist announced, and Sakura had more than a slight inkling that she had Genma to thank for that. “Therapy, first floor, room 221B. Go wait outside the door, you’re officially patient 24601.”

Slightly stunned by that quick relay of information, Sakura obediently shuffled over to the stairs leading onto the first floor, absently pondering the logic of having room 221B on the first floor, then deciding that ninja, like all others, were allowed their eccentricities. She settled into one of the chairs in front of the room she was directed to and pulled out her latest genjutsu scroll, deciding she might as well pass the time productively. It seemed that just as she was getting into the interesting part of the theory, the door to her examination room opened, a tall, raven haired woman in a dress made of what seemed like bandages walking out with a shaky ‘thanks’ over her shoulder. She did a quick doubletake upon seeing Sakura, but when the rosette showed no sign of recognition, she shuffled past and out.

“Patient 24601?” a calm, deep voice called from inside the room, and Sakura managed to stuff her scroll into her pocket and step through the door before the silence that followed became too awkward. She took care to close the door behind her as she walked in, steeling her nerves, before she turned around.

“Good morning, thank you for ha- Yamanaka-san?” she trailed off, suddenly thrown by the sight of her childhood best friend’s father wearing a lab coat thrown over the standard charcoal turtleneck.

“Sakura-chan?” he greeted, equally surprised, before he seemed to compose himself. “I thought I told you years ago that Inoichi-san is just fine.” He added, with that same fatherly smile Sakura remembered from the many evenings she used to spend at Ino’s before they fell out.

This time, instead of filling her with warmth, it merely served to make her slightly nauseous. “That would be highly unprofessional of me, seeing what I’m here for.” She quipped, aiming for teasing but falling flat. Now that she was actually here, the flashbacks from the nightmares came back full force.

“Ah.” And with that one syllable, Inoichi switched flawlessly from the fatherly-figure from her childhood to the reliable therapist Genma would’ve trusted. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I…” all of a sudden, she wasn’t sure how to start. Bad dreams seemed so trivial when faced with a man who’d undoubtedly lived through the Third Shinobi War and remained unaffected enough to raise a daughter as radiant and full of life as Ino. “Um, I don’t…”

“Sakura-chan,” Inoichi smiled at her, reassuring this time. “I assure you, whatever troubles you, it’s valid, and important, and there’s no shame in sharing. Take your time.”

So she took a deep breath and told him. She told him of her dreams, of her mission, beyond even what she’d told Genma, she told him of how her and Tamaki had gotten along, how they’d taken turns to talk about dreams and ambitions under the starry sky, how it was her fault he wouldn’t get to live long enough to see those ambitions through because _she didn’t hear the enemy coming until it was too late and her teammate had sacrificed himself for her and now he was dead._

It wasn’t until she felt a gentle hand settle on her shoulder that she realised she was hyperventilating and there were tears streaming out of her eyes and every other word was catching on a sob.

“Sakura-chan, Sakura-chan, ssh, it’s alright.” Inoichi shushed her quietly, his thumb rubbing circles into the tight muscle of her shoulder.

After she calmed down, he proceeded to explain that she was experiencing quite a tough case of Survivor’s Guilt, and that the first step to dealing with it was acknowledging she had a problem, which she had already done, and he congratulated her for it. Inoichi continued by saying that she needed to talk openly about her time in the tunnels, and that he would recommend scheduling regular appointments until it eased. Then he suggested a support network, and followed with the words – “I hear you mentioned Anko; why don’t you ask her how she’s coping?” at which Sakura couldn’t help but snort, regardless of the fact that it sounded absolutely disgusting with her nose clogged up after crying.

“No offense, Yamanaka-san, but senpai is hardly the type of person to talk about her _feelings._ I reckon she’d try to sic one of her snakes on me again.” She told him shakily, at which he smiled, cerulean eyes twinkling with mirth.

“If she does, tell me, and I’ll sic Ibiki on her.” The idea of the fierce Intelligence Division Commander lecturing Anko about sharing her feelings made Sakura crack up, and it took her a few seconds to get her chuckles under control.

“Will do, Yamanaka-san. Thanks.”

“Anytime, Sakura-chan. Now, do you have anyone at home to turn to in case the nightmares get particularly nasty between appointments?” Inoichi asked kindly, and Sakura couldn’t help the wry smile.

“Yeah.” She replied, nodding. “Genma. He’s incredible and I honestly don’t know how he deals with having a teenage girl in the house, but he’s the best kaa-san ever. He’s actually the one who suggested this to me.”

Inoichi looked surprised for a few seconds, then his smile softened. “I’m not surprised. You probably know by now that he’s very reliable, so don’t be afraid to talk to him.”

Sakura smiled and managed to force out a ‘I’ll try to’, then Inoichi moved on to what she could do in between sessions – he set her breathing exercises, visualisation exercises, meditation and a multitude of grounding techniques to deal with the dreams, then recommended weekly meetings for the first month, which would then reduce to monthly if she was showing progress.

Finally, just as Sakura was about to leave, a bunch of leaflets and pamphlets and hand-written notes clutched in her hands, Inoichi stopped her. “Sakura-chan,” when she turned around at the door, he smiled, although it looked slightly strained. “I’d like you to know I’m speaking as my daughter’s father now, and not your therapist.” Anxiety rolled in her stomach, absolutely certain she was going to get told off for her behaviour towards Ino. Sakura screwed her eyes shut, then – “Come to dinner at our house.”

“H-huh?” the rosette gawked, making Inoichi chuckle.

“Dinner, Sakura-chan.” He repeated. “Ino will be delighted to see you again, and I’m sure you’ll be able to rekindle your friendship. You two used to be so close.”

Sakura gulped, then considered. “Will anyone else be there?” she asked meekly.

“My wife, Shikaku and Chouza – their wives and sons. Shikaku told me you got quite close to his son on that mission to Kiri. It’s just a little family gathering.” Inoichi told her in what was meant to be a reassuring manner, but merely made her pale.

“Won’t that make me an outsider?” she asked cautiously, not meaning to come off as rude.

Inoichi waved her off. “Nonsense, not if I invited you. Tomorrow, at six, assuming you’re not called away on a mission. I’m sure you remember the way to our house?”

When she nodded, the blond beamed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sakura-chan.”

Taking that as the dismissal it was, Sakura walked out and shut the door behind her.

* * *

 

That same night, Sakura jolted awake in bed, her heart beating a wild staccato rhythm and sweating more than she sometimes did when she trained. Tamaki’s face was a vivid picture in her mind, its accusatory glare by now so familiar but no less effective in making her loathe herself. The dream was different this time though, even worse than usual, and even though she’d already forced her eyes open, she kept whipping her head from side to side, seeing shapes that looked suspiciously like the Iwa-nin in her peripheral vision. It didn’t matter that every time she focused on the shapes they turned out to be something innocuous like a lamp or a shirt draped over the back of her chair – in her rising panic, Sakura had already managed to work herself into a state of hyperventilation, and her vision was slowly growing blurry with tears and dark spots were creeping in from the corner of her eyes.

So she screwed her eyes shut, Inoichi’s words echoing in her mind, and gave his recommended technique a try. Forcing herself to take a deep breath only to have it catch in her throat and turn into a whimper, she focused on her surroundings, prying her eyes open.

_What can I see? There’s my chair, my desk, the lamp, my scrolls, my teddy bear, I know this, this is my room, I can do this. What can I smell? I can smell… I can smell the katsudon I made for dinner, I can smell the lavender detergent Genma insists on using on the bedsheets, I can smell old paper from the scrolls and books. I can hear… I can hear the bar two blocks down playing some godawful bass music, I can hear the grandfather clock in the neighbour’s room, I can hear the fuinjutsu sheets rustling in the slight draft. I can taste my toothpaste. And I can touch my blanket, much too thick for this time of year, but I’m too lazy to change it, besides, it’ll get chilly again soon._

By the time she focused on her blanket, her breathing was back to steady and deep. Suddenly exhausted, she managed to push thoughts of Tamaki to the very back of her mind, but sleep still escaped her. After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep and failing, Sakura got up, changed into one of her shirts which she had no idea how they got to her wardrobe (she had an underlying suspicion that it actually belonged to Shikamaru and it got mixed up with her stuff when they were leaving Mist) and crept out of her bedroom into the living room. Flopping on the sofa, she switched on the small lamp by the armrest, dragged out one of her books on genjutsu from under the coffee table, and threw the throwblanket her and Genma always left on the sofa for this exact reason over herself. She didn’t know how long she ended up reading for, but at some point she must’ve fallen asleep, as the next morning she woke up with her cheek smushed against the page and a nasty crick in her neck, but she was also surprisingly well-rested.

Well, ‘well-rested’ until she glanced at the clock and realised she had to be at the T&I office in fifteen minutes.

Her day at T&I was busy, Anko was extra-demanding and the paperwork she had to fill out made her eyes sting and her head throb, and it wasn’t until she left the office that she realised she had an hour until she needed to be at the Yamanaka household and absolutely no idea what she was going to wear.

Anko noticed her distress when she was leaving and tugged at her ponytail. “Oi, kid, you alright? You look tense.”

Sakura debated whether the potentially helpful response she might get was worth the months of teasing she was undoubtedly going to get, then sighed. “I’m going to the Yamanaka’s for dinner and I have nothing to wear. I don’t even know what I _should_ wear.” When her senpai merely smirked at her, Sakura scowled. “Can you help?”

The tokujo’s smirk turned mischievous. “Are you actually asking your _senpai_ for _help_? With _fashion,_ no less?” Anko looked like a cat who’d caught the canary.

“Not _fashion._ ” The rosette corrected, glaring at the woman. “Just what sort of stuff I should wear – casual, ninja wear, formal, dresses – I have no idea. I’ve never been to one of these sort of dinners, especially not with _three_ major Clan Heads present.”

Anko grinned and linked her arm with Sakura’s, throwing a cheery ‘tell the old man I’ll be back in an hour!’ over her shoulder before she turned to her student. “Well, you lucked out. Anko-senpai knows _just_ the thing.”

If Sakura thought shopping with Genma was fun, if a bit of an otherworldly experience, shopping with Anko was a _nightmare_. It took about five minutes for Sakura to start to completely regret the decision to ask the woman for help. Not only did Anko know each and every one of the store clerks, _they_ also all seemed to know _her_ , and Sakura lost count of how many times a shop owner blanched when the tokujo strolled into their shop, then proceeded to throw discounts at her feet that Sakura was sure were _at least_ 50% less than the original value.

Sakura lost track of how many times she sighed and covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and amusement warring within her in equal parts. In the end though, they ended up with a very nice outfit consisting of a pale yellow kimono top, beige pants and an emerald green haori to throw over the top, and Sakura had to admit, it looked good.

She thanked Anko, then made it to the Yamanaka household with five minutes to spare. It was Inoichi who opened the door, and he brightened considerably when he saw her.

“Sakura-chan! I’m so glad you decided to come, come right in!” he smiled warmly then stepped aside, ushering her in. Sakura still knew Ino’s house like the back of her hand, but she decided to wait for Inoichi to close the door and lead her inside. When he did and they reached the dining area, Sakura nearly tripped over her feet when she realised that everyone else was already there, sitting at the table. _Waiting for her._ She saw that a spot had been left for her at the very end, next to who she guessed was Chouji’s mother and opposite Shikamaru. Shikamaru, who looked up and sent her a small smirk, seconds before Ino’s mom clued into the fact that she’d walked in and twirled over to where the rosette stood with the same grace and dramatic flair she’d passed on to her daughter.

“Oh, Sakura-chan, I was so happy when Inoichi told me he’d invited you! How long has it been since you last visited? It feels like a decade! Oh, I must introduce you to everyone!” even when she was younger, Sakura had been perplexed by the woman’s enthusiasm, but she’d been able to handle it and even match it on occasion. Now, she was simply overwhelmed, and could simply nod dumbly when she was led to the head of the table and the Yamanaka matriarch gestured to the adults seated around the table.

Shikamaru’s dad, who she learned was called Shikaku, his mom, Yoshino, Chouji’s dad, Chouza, and Chouji’s mom were all seated around the table, and Sakura made a point to bow and murmur a greeting and an introduction, only to be waved off while Inoichi laughed. “You’re still unfailingly polite, I see, Sakura-chan. But you don’t need that here. Now go on, sit down, we’re about to eat.”

Taking the cue for what it was, the rosette padded over to the chair that had been left for her and all but melted into it. Shikamaru noticed and chuckled, then leaned on his folded arms and peered up at her.

“Didn’t expect to see you here. It’s been a while.” He greeted, and Sakura was momentarily thrown by how much she’d missed the brunet.

Still, she hoped the five months that passed with minimal contact had not affected their relationship _too_ much, so she grinned back and replied with a teasing, “Well, I’m too lazy to leave now that I’m sitting down, so you’ll have to deal.”

Shikamaru snorted and rolled his eyes, “And apparently _I’m_ the lazy one.”

“You _are_ though,” Sakura teased back, her grin not fading. “I just hide it better. But anyway – how have you been? I’m sorry that I didn’t find the time to talk to you before today, I was -!”

But the Nara waved her off. “Sakura, relax. It’s fine. I know you were busy; I get it. And I wasn’t doing anything overly spectacular – just training, some C-Ranks, shogi with Asuma, clan stuff, the usual. How about you? I know you’ve been busy, but the stuff I actually heard seems a bit far-fetched.”

Curious, Sakura raised an eyebrow. “Like what? What have you heard?”

Shikamaru shrugged. “I don’t know, a lot of things. Like the fact that you allegedly work for T&I now.” When the rosette didn’t respond, Shikamaru sighed dejectedly. “Don’t tell me that’s the _one_ piece of gossip that is actually true.”

Smiling apologetically, Sakura shrugged. “Well, yeah. After that time we met in the hospital, I did my month of D-Ranks, then started training as a medic under Tsunade-sama, then joined T&I as Anko-senpai’s apprentice, went on an awful mission then proceeded to drop out of the medic training, so now I’m full-time at T&I till my six months is up.” It wasn’t until she’d finished speaking that Sakura realised that all the talk around the dinner table had quietened, and Ino was staring at her like she’d seen a ghost.

But Shikamaru was unperturbed and huffed. “Overworking is a thing, woman. You do too much.” Then, when Sakura merely stuck her tongue out at him, he sighed. “You still living with Shiranui?” he asked, which also drew an interesting reaction from the adults gathered around the table, but Sakura tried not to pay attention to that and smiled at Shikamaru instead.

“Yeah, I am, though he was sent on a mission yesterday.” She admitted, then her attention was drawn to Shikaku who sat three seats over from his son.

“ _Genma_ Shiranui?” the Clan Head asked, one scarred eyebrow shooting up.

Shikamaru sighed and mumbled something under his breath, but Sakura ignored him and turned to his dad. “The one and only, Nara-san.” She replied with a slight smile, then turned to Chouza. “Which reminds me – correct me if I got this wrong, but you were his genin sensei, weren’t you, Akimichi-san?”

Chouza nodded and smiled fondly. “That I did. All three of my students turned into exceptional shinobi, but I’m even happier that they turned into exceptional men. Wouldn’t you agree, Sakura-chan?”

The rosette flushed slightly at the honorific but nodded regardless. Then, the conversation separated back into adults and children, with Shikamaru striking up conversation with Chouji while Sakura was left with no other choice but to meet Ino’s eyes.

And then, the moment their eyes met, Sakura was transported back to when they were both seven years old, and Ino seemed like the queen of her world and everything she ever aspired to be.

Now, those blue eyes looked at her like a stranger.

“How… how have you been, Ino?” she asked at last, her voice much weaker than she intended.

Ino startled, then tried for a smile, though it fell short. “I, uh, good, yeah. Busy. I mean, not as busy as you, clearly, I don’t think any of us were, but yeah. I trained some, looked after the shop, went on missions. I… how about you? Not, y’know, not in regard to missions but how have you been doing? T&I is quite… harsh, and I just… how have you been coping?”

Sakura was surprised, then she felt tears gathering in her eyes. She had been neglecting her friendship with Ino for over three years, and yet the blonde still cared, and cared enough to want the nitty-gritty details and not the generic ‘I’m fine’. So Sakura smiled a little tearfully and tried her best.

“I… it’s alright, most of the time. Genma is incredibly supportive, Anko can really motivate me, there are these other two chunin, Izumo and Kotetsu, who are just a lot of fun, and Chojuro, who Shikamaru might’ve told you about. I’m not, y’know, alone or struggling, but there was this one mission a few days ago, it was- really rough. I actually went to your dad – I mean, the therapy building, it was a coincidence that Inoichi-san was my therapist – ‘cause I just… couldn’t deal. So, it’s been good mainly, and even when it’s crappy, I have people who help me work it out.”

Ino smiled, and there was pity in her eyes but also something that Sakura tentatively identified as happiness. “I’m really glad. Thank you… for telling me. And I know that my dad is good at what he does. If anyone can help you work through whatever it is that last mission caused, it’s him.” Sakura smiled at the fond look Ino shot at her dad and for the first time in a while felt a stabbing pain in her heart when she thought about her own parents.

Though Genma was amazing, and she often joked that he was like a kaa-san, she missed her own parents with a stabbing sense of urgency. Living with Genma and keeping herself occupied most of the time she sent awake kept her from thinking too much about it, which she knew Inoichi or the tokujo would call a ‘poor coping mechanism’ were she to admit it, but it was the truth. But now, presented with exactly what she was missing out on, Sakura was almost brought to tears by the fact that she would _never have that again._

Ino though, for all her ingenuity and kindness, didn’t notice that the rosette was slowly falling apart, and asked; “Also, I meant to ask earlier – why are you living with this ‘Genma’ person and not your parents?”

Sakura could feel the cold dredges of the panic she often felt waking up from her nightmares and closed her eyes. _She doesn’t know, she isn’t poking fun at you, she is just curious and not trying to hurt you. Come on, count to ten, one, two, three…_ the rosette coached herself through the breathing exercises Inoichi set her, wilfully ignoring Ino’s prodding and worried questions. After about a minute of silence, Sakura opened her eyes and met the blonde’s gaze head-on.

“My parents are dead, Ino. They died in the Invasion.” She explained curtly, not missing Shikamaru’s sharp gaze flickering in her direction nor the sudden silence that fell around the table.

Ino covered her mouth with her hand, horrified. “I-I’m so sorry-!” she started to say, but Sakura cut her off with an only slightly forced smile and a wave of her hand, while her chest filled with warmth at the genuine concern she saw on her old friend’s face.

“You didn’t know, Ino-chan. It’s hardly your fault.” She noticed too late that in the midst of her nostalgia, she’d let the old honorific she used to address Ino with slip out, but she found it hard to regret it when Ino’s eyes brimmed with tears and a cautious smile bloomed on her face.

Absently, she met Shikamaru’s inquiring gaze and her smile became ever so slightly more real at what she saw in the Nara’s eyes – the ‘ _are you alright?_ ’ was clear as day in the concerned brown pools, and Sakura felt another surge of affection for the brunet. She nodded wordlessly, then her attention was yet again stolen by Shikaku.

“So what are your plans now?” the Clan Head inquired, his keen gaze infinitely more piercing than his son’s. “Inoichi tells me you’re in T&I at the moment, but do you know what you want after that?”

Sakura pretended to ponder over the question for a few seconds then shrugged with a demure smile. “I’d like to complete my apprenticeship at T&I as I have little over a month left. Then I think I’d like to still stay part-time, but be allowed to take more missions out of the Village to boost up my mission count. Then… I’d like to try for jounin as soon as I’m eligible. Ideally in the next two years.” There was a surprised silence once she finished, but while Ino and Chouji, both still genin, were openly gawking, Shikaku merely looked curious.

“Why the rush? We’re no longer in wartime – quick rank advancement isn’t necessary anymore, nor is it common practice.” He prodded, and Sakura saw a shadow of Shikamaru in the man. Or, perhaps more accurately, she knew where Shikamaru got his persistence from.

So she met the man head-on; “I want to be partners with Genma.” She stated simply. “He specialises in assassination, but having a partner with whom he regularly takes missions will keep him from being nabbed for the shadow ranks, which will keep him marginally safer. And even if there are dangerous missions as jounin, I plan to be right next to him to patch him up.”

Something that looked suspiciously like approval flickered through the Nara Head’s eyes, before it was quickly hidden before the impassive façade. “If Shiranui is an assassin, you’d have to be one too in order to be partners with him.” he countered, but Sakura merely shrugged.

“Small price to pay.” She replied honestly, and that glint resurfaced.

“It might be detrimental to your continued mental wellbeing.” The Nara persisted, and Sakura was now almost certain that he was butting heads with her simply to see how she’d react, not because he actually disagreed with what she was saying.

So she humoured him. “I have Konohagakure’s best psychologist on my case, as well as a close circle of friends who care for me and would do their utmost to prevent me from going dark. Besides, I know my limits, Shikaku-sama, and I would have no qualms against stopping if I felt it was beyond me.”

Inoichi looked proud while Shikaku looked almost self-satisfied. “Best of luck then.” And then he turned to Chouza and restarted their conversation as if he hadn’t stopped.

Sakura turned to Shikamaru, surprised, but the Nara just smirked and shrugged, as if this was to be expected. With a smile of her own, the rosette just shook her head and struck up conversation about the latest shogi tactic she thought of and asked for Shikamaru’s opinion.

Neither of them commented on the fact that Ino was looking at Sakura like she only just saw her for the first time throughout the rest of the dinner.

Overall, the evening was a success, and after the initial awkwardness, the rest progressed with a lot of embarrassing kid stories, mission talk, and general chatter.

* * *

 

A week later, Sakura was in the kitchen, bustling around making diner, when she heard the front door creak open and a thump of something hitting the floor. Flipping the kitchen knife in her hand so she held it like a mock-kunai, she crept out of the kitchen and hesitated just before rounding the corner to the hallway. She tried to seek out the chakra signature, but it was so faint and fluctuating that the rosette frowned, uncertain, even if it seemed familiar.

“Genma?” she called out, but upon receiving no response, she squeezed her eyes shut, then snapped them open and stepped into the hallway, knife held threateningly. The sight that awaited her made her drop the knife with a gasp and fall to her knees – it was indeed Genma, but he looked a right mess, and Sakura’s heard ached for him. It seemed like he’d crumbled to the ground the moment he stepped through the threshold – there was a bright red stain on the wall from around waist height down to the shaking ball that was Genma. It took Sakura a moment to realise that the tokujo was in his ANBU uniform, the light grey vest stained a reddish-brown and the armguards smeared with blood. Sakura sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening that it wasn’t _Genma’s_ blood.

For a moment, she was at a loss – Genma had yet to say anything, his arms were wrapped tightly around his knees which were drawn up to his chest, his face was obscured by his limp hair, and he appeared to be _shaking._

She decided the question she had at the tip of her tongue – “ _Are you alright?_ ” was rather pointless, as it was clear that he _wasn’t_. Steeling herself, the rosette prepared herself to be the adult in this particular situation.

She shuffled closer to the brunet’s prone form, slowly as to avoid startling him, her arm outstretched till her hand made contact with his shoulder.

“Genma?” She murmured, but received no response. “Genma, it’s me, Sakura. I need you to sit up, okay? Can you do that?” when she received no response, she pushed on his shoulder a little more insistently. “Come on, let’s get you up.” Lightly nudging his arm, she noted that the brunet wasn’t _resisting_ movement, just refusing to initiate it. Decision made, she shifted closer and pulled the man’s arm from his knees to rest around her shoulders, while her other hand wrapped around his middle, mindful of any potential wounds she might find there. She straightened up from her crouch and pulled Genma up with her, making sure his legs could support at least some of his weight before she started moving towards the bathroom. “Have a shower, then I’ll get you something to eat, then you can sleep or talk about whatever happened, if you want. Does that sound alright?” it didn’t hit her until she was standing directly beside him, but Genma absolutely _reeked_ of death and carnage and sweat and blood. She was shaken up by just how shaken up _Genma_ was, but she knew that her freaking out and asking a million questions was the last thing the brunet needed at the moment, so she shoved her worry and curiosity to the very back of her mind for the time being. Instead, she focused on trying to figure out if there was any discernible wound to be found on the tokujo’s back. In the end, she nearly gagged at what she found and had to momentarily stop, unwind Genma’s arm from her shoulders and lean him against the wall so she could flash through the necessary handsigns. Once her hands were glowing a steady green, her chakra synced with the almost sluggish flow of the brunet’s, she pushed up the back of his shirt and pressed her hands against Genma’s back, focusing on sealing up the nasty, jagged wound just above his tailbone. She wondered how he’d even been able to run at all, then shoved that thought from her mind lest she either vomit or start crying. When the wound was no longer bleeding and Genma was slumped against the wall, the shaking of his limbs reduced to occasional tremors, Sakura supported him the last few metres to the bathroom, then sat him carefully on the closed laundry basket.

Genma’s eyes followed her as she stepped away to start running the bath, adding some of the oils she’d bought on a whim and making sure the temperature was okay. Once she stepped back into Genma’s space, she started trying to figure out how the clasps on the ANBU chest armour worked as she didn’t think the tokujo was in any sort of state to do that. When she had them open, she smiled at the brunet and poked his arm.

“Arms up, please.” She told him, but when all she received was a blank stare, she tried to ignore how it pulled at her heartstrings and instead tried to emulate Tsunade’s tone when she spoke to stubborn patients. “Arms. _Up._ ” She ordered, feeling guilty for snapping at Genma in this state, but pleasantly surprised when something in his eyes flickered to life and the corner of his mouth twitched the slightest bit upwards, so minute she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been monitoring his expressions for the slightest sign of life since he’d walked in. Then, slowly but surely, the tokujo raised his arms over his head, and Sakura took the chance to tug off the armour. When she finally managed to chuck the chestpiece into the corner of the bathroom, she moved on to the armguards, then Genma’s ninja sandals. She untied the bandages around his thigh then undid the knot of his bandana before she stepped back and gathered all the discarded clothing in her arms to chuck into the wash. Genma was still perched on the laundry basket, clad in his short sleeved turtleneck and black pants, but Sakura hoped the tokujo was back to himself enough to pull those off himself.

“Right, um,” she glanced over at the bath, suddenly awkward, then mentally slapped herself. “The bath’s ready, I’ll bring you some clean clothes and dinner will be ready when you get out.” When silence met her words, the rosette took that as her cue to leave. She was half-way out the door when a voice stopped her, “Sakura.” She winced – it was still undeniably Genma’s voice, she could recognise it anywhere, but it was so hoarse and raw, she had no doubt that even the three syllables of her name must’ve been agony. Still, she poked her head back into the bathroom and tried for a smile.

“Mmhm?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice as unassuming as possible.

“Thank you.”

Sakura’s heart warmed and her throat grew tight, so she just nodded and stepped out.

By the time Genma stepped out of the shower – clad in a simple navy shirt and loose black sweatpants Sakura had left by the door to the bathroom – the rosette had dinner ready in bowls on the coffee table and the throw-blanket spread invitingly over the sofa. Genma sat on the couch while she perched on the small pouf, and they ate in silence. When they were done with their meal, Sakura grabbed the bowls, washed them in the sink, then came back, pulled out her book from under the sofa and made herself comfortable on the armchair. Minutes passed with her reading and Genma staring off into space, occasionally staring at her, sometimes just sitting with his eyes closed, until –

“They had me kill children.”

Sakura almost jumped at the sudden noise, then the meaning of Genma’s words fully registered in her mind and she put her book down, but she didn’t speak, too afraid of spooking him.

Genma adamantly refused to meet her eyes when he spoke again. “I’ve been in this job for longer than you’ve been alive.” He said at last. “When I worked for the Sandaime, when I first got drafted as an assassin, we had a deal: I will do anything, however often, whenever he wants, but I don’t want to ever have to kill anyone under the age of ten. Sarutobi respected that. When I then worked under Min- the Yondaime, he respected that too. In fact,” here, a twisted mimicry of a grin pulled at Genma’s lips, “he did everything in his power to keep me in the Village as often as possible. He didn’t think me killing people twice my age at 17 every evening was good for my mental health. Wonder why.” He chuckled. “The first few missions I got sent on with the Godaime were fine. I mean, they were a mess with a high death-toll, and it’s probably a testament to just how desensitized I am for me to say that it was _fine_ , but it was nothing I haven’t done before.”

He sighed, closed his eyes and pushed the heels of his palms against them. “This mission… it didn’t start bad. They found one of Orochimaru’s bases, one with all of his… experiments. The ANBU squad I was with was sent to ‘clean it up’. We got there no problem, got in, realised at least half the base was asleep – sweet, easy job, we thought. And then, we split up, and I got to the first cot, and… she couldn’t have been older than six.” Genma paused, took a deep breath that caught in his throat and formed a strangled sob, but pushed on. “They… the _modifications_ by Orochimaru meant that their system broke down poison five times faster than normal, so we couldn’t afford to hope that would get the job done. We… we got explicit orders to decapitate, or grievously maim. I… I couldn’t do it. The first five were fine, they were asleep, I could just close my eyes, but then they started waking up. They were… they were monsters, Sakura. I don’t know what Orochimaru has been doing, but their chakra level, healing rate, and pure, brute strength is off the charts. And while my eyes were seeing monsters, small, chest-height monsters hardly resembling anything even vaguely human, my mind kept screaming at me that they were _children._ That I was killing children who had been coerced and kidnapped and tortured and made into something inhuman.” He took a shuddering breath. “I’ve done awful things as a shinobi. I’ve killed, tortured, stole, destroyed, sold, lied and plundered, but even with all of that, I have never felt worse than I did knowing that I left that cave with the blood of _children_ on my hands and on my blades. I left all my weapons as they lay, I didn’t bother trying to pick them up. The way back was mechanical – nobody spoke, then again, hardly anyone dares speak on ANBU missions anyhow. I managed to forget, if only for a few hours, the carnage we left behind.”

Genma paused, and, for the first time since he started speaking, he met Sakura’s tear-filled eyes. “Then… we got back. My team leader went to report, the rest of us scattered. But it wasn’t until I walked through this door and I heard you in the kitchen that I realised… I realised that I spent the night killing your peers. Children your age, most younger, put down with even less dignity than a rabid dog. I… It all came back to me. Overwhelmed me. I’d like to apologise for that, by the way – I haven’t disassociated this bad since I was nineteen. I’m… sorry, for freaking you out, and I’m sorry that you had to see that.”

Silence fell around them once again, Genma looking apologetic and ashamed while Sakura stared at him in disbelieving, horrified silence, trying to find something to say. Then, deciding words were temporarily insufficient, the rosette threw herself at Genma, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and squeezing tightly, fitting herself into the space between the brunet’s side and the sofa’s armrest. They stayed like that for a while, Genma’s arms eventually coming up to wrap around her as well.

Then, Sakura spoke.

“Don’t apologise.” And then, even quieter, “If you get a partner… will you be permanently assigned to the Jounin Corps?”

Genma pondered over that, then nodded. “That’s what happened when Raidou became my partner. From my twenty-first till my thirty-first birthday, I was only assigned seven ANBU missions. Why? What’s on your mind?”

Sakura hid her face in the brunet’s shoulder, not wanting to give herself away. “I need your help.”

* * *

 

From that day, her days were marked by training with Genma, T&I, meetings with Inoichi, and sporadic letters to and from Chōjūrō. A month later, her official apprenticeship under Anko ended, and she got ten C-Ranks added to her mission record. However, instead of calling it quits, Sakura became a formal T&I member, still staying under Anko’s leadership, and chose to focus her study on becoming an interrogator. Now, she only had to be at T&I every other day unless needed for an emergency, so she had far more free time on her hands. Free time which, to nobody’s surprise, she spent training with Genma, intent on at least halving the time she initially estimated it would take her to become a jounin.

When asked for tips on teamwork, Izumo and Kotetsu immediately suggested sparring blindfolded, then progressing to 2v2 spars. Sakura had initially rejected the idea, but when the duo had explained that training blind helps you learn how to move with your partner subconsciously _and_ gives you a far better understanding of their fighting style, she was tempted. Her first attempt with Genma was… _disastrous_. Although Genma was a far better sensor than her, he was still – in Kotetsu’s words, who’d insisted on seeing their first attempt – ‘absolutely, hilariously awful’. Sakura ended up with bruises in places she didn’t even know she could _have_ bruises, she fell flat on her face in the dirt far more times than she was comfortable admitting, and she had scratches on every uncovered piece of skin from the shuriken she’d managed to sense but _not soon enough._ Genma was marginally better off, far more able at moving blind through years of experience in the field, though the sheer irregularity of Sakura’s movements kept him constantly guessing, and Genma himself reckoned he’d have fared better against an actual enemy because ‘at least they’d be coming to _kill me_ and not veering off miles to the left and sending a kunai at my _ankles_ ’. They decided to try baby-steps and start from individual movements blindfolded, then, after a week, progressed to slow, pair katas, then to slow controlled sparring, and then to a full-out taijutsu one-on-one. Sakura felt a bit guilty at the fact that she was killing two birds with one stone – learning how to work with Genma and improving her taijutsu from the abysmal Academy style at the same time. However, after a month of working blind, Sakura could freely say that she had learnt Genma’s preferred attack pattern, the leg he favoured for kicks, the arm he favoured for punches, and how much his drop-kick _hurt_ when it hits in the shoulder.

She also started working seriously on her genjutsu, widening her arsenal from a dozen to over thirty different techniques, some sent over from Mist by Chōjūrō, some which Anko lifted from T&I prisoners, some which Genma managed to persuade a friend of a friend of a friend to hand over, etc. Techniques which she read about were assimilated almost instantly, and she could now recreate not only how a scene looked, but also the various smells that were present, how the bark felt against her skin, how the setting sun momentarily blinded her – all that, she could evoke in those trapped in her illusions. Genma, Kotetsu and Izumo were frequently called upon as her guinea pigs, and she took great pleasure in layering her genjutsus one over the other – especially on Kotetsu – and making the last layer so close to reality that it was almost impossible to discern illusion from the real world. She would then sit back and watch how much stumbling around and bumping into trees and training posts that had _no right to be there_ it took before the raven would realise that he stopped dispelling the illusions one layer too early. She was often in stitches by the end, and Kotetsu would then attempt to tackle her to the ground and either wrestle her into submission or tickle mercilessly until she was properly crying with laughter.

There was just one thing – although she was grateful for the structured, varied instructions to the techniques she was learning, she couldn’t help but recall the two situations where textbook illusions had failed her. The taunting, mocking litany from the Forest of Death ‘ _if you truly want to register as a threat next time, you’ll need to learn that sometimes, you ought to dig a little deeper, because_ _love_ _can be a thousand times more terrifying than fear_ _itself’ and the more recent callout from the caves which still brought her nightmares, albeit more sporadic ‘_ _You can’t use something so impersonal and hope it’ll affect us!’_ brought out an issue in her style she hadn’t even consciously realised was there, and the desire to start working on her own genjutsu grew more and more pronounced with every time she thought about it. She had the bare bones – something personal, yet powerful, easy, yet effective, and in equal terms poignant and terrifying. As much as she hated admitting even to herself that an S-Rank traitor was right, sometimes – just sometimes – fear was not enough. The most seasoned shinobi would’ve long ago lost their natural response to fear, would’ve trained themselves to ignore the fight-or-flight instinct and choose ‘fight’ every time. She needed something that could be her go-to one-hit knockout. Like Sasuke’s Chidori or Naruto’s Rasengan or Genma’s poisoned senbon or Anko’s snake Summons, she needed a ‘last resort’. Only she had no legendary bloodline limit or bottomless chakra core or tutelage from a Sannin.

So she had to work something out herself.

Yet, as always, there was only one complication – she couldn’t ask Genma to let her test a prototype genjutsu on him when she didn’t even know whether it would work. She also, for once, didn’t really feel up to asking Genma for help, as he would undoubtedly try to tell her that it was far too early in her career to think of inventing her own jutsu. But Sakura was determined. She made notes, thought of how to implement her ideas, combined her medical studies with what she’d learned under Anko, and then, just when she was itching to see whether her theories worked, Heaven smiled down on her in the form of Anko knocking enthusiastically on her door.

“Kid, get your ass to T&I! I’ve got something I think you might like!” her senpai greeted, but Sakura was wiser than to trust Anko’s judgement of what she ‘might like’.

“What is it, senpai?” she asked instead, still firmly planted on her doorstep. Anko’s grin dimmed slightly and she mock-pouted.

“God, you’re no fun. What happened to the cute chunin from a few months ago who would’ve jumped at this and kissed my feet?” she demanded, glaring at the rosette though without any real heat.

At that, Sakura couldn’t help her grin. “She realised you were insane?” she offered teasingly, ducking the hand that flew at her head with a laugh. “I’m kidding, but really, is it a mission?”

“Better,” Anko promised, her eyes sparkling, her annoyance temporarily forgotten, “I managed to convince Ibiki to let you have a crack at one of the prisoners. He’s been with us for a while and I think we’ve got almost everything out of him, but Ibiki, the paranoid ass, thinks he’s still hiding something. So, you might get your ten minutes of fame if you can get it out of him~!” she sang with a mad grin, and Sakura tried to stop a similar expression from taking over her own face:

This was _perfect._

* * *

 

Inoichi stood in the Hokage’s office, summoned to report on the latest developments in the Intelligence Division, and then, once that was out of the way, asked about his latest patient.

“How’s the little diplomat doing? Heard she’s signed up for therapy recently.” Tsunade asked off-handedly, and both Shizune and Inoichi glanced at each other, equally surprised.

“She’s showing progress, Tsunade-sama.” He replied cautiously. “She says the nightmares are less frequent and she’s learning to compartmentalize, which is good.”

Tsunade tapped her heel on the floor, one corner of her lips twitching up wryly.

“Still determined to be an assassin?” she asked, at which Inoichi nodded grudgingly.

“Unfortunately so.” He admitted grudgingly, not at all understanding why someone as sweet as the rosette he knew would willingly want that profession.

Tsunade sighed, then levelled him with a flat stare. “Is she mission ready?” she demanded.

Inoichi winced. “She’s much better but I would still like to monitor her regularly to make sure the PTSD and Survivor’s Guilt doesn’t worsen-”

“Yamanaka, simple question: is. She. Mission. Ready?” Tsunade repeated, punctuating each word with a tap of her manicured nail on the desk, hairline fractures showing up on the lacquered wood.

The Yamanaka Head shut his eyes and took a deep breath, then swiftly separated ‘Sakura-chan’ from ‘Patient 24601’ in his mind. When he opened his eyes, his face was blank, his voice detached. “Patient Haruno has shown significant improvement over the last month and a half and is likely to make full recovery in a few weeks. The nightmares and panic attacks are, as of two weeks ago, scarce.” Then, feeling like he was driving the last nail into the coffin and hammering it in, he finished; “Haruno Sakura is mission ready, Tsunade-sama.”

The smile that spread on Tsunade’s face was grim, but her eyes were full of regret.

_“Perfect.”_


	14. Developments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i realised i cant write short chapters. i just cannot with this story. i'm really sorry, but here's another beast - 15k.
> 
> on a related note, would you guys like me to start doing a short summary of the previous chapter at the start of every new one? with my update schedule, it might be difficult to remember exactly what happened, and it can be tedious having to go back and refresh your memory every time (unless u like my story that much ;P)
> 
> i'm curious as to your reaction for what awaits at the end ;)

Sakura let Anko escort her to T&I, then marvelled as she was led far deeper into the building’s bowels than she’d previously been allowed to go. She sent a curious glance at her senpai, which the woman caught and promptly snorted at. “There are over ten more levels below the one we’re heading to, brat, so don’t look so awed already.” She remarked, and Sakura promptly gawked, then sighed internally – she wished Anko wouldn’t be so… well, _Anko_ sometimes and let her have her delusions. But she shook her head and smiled instead, grateful that the woman was willing to put up with her at all.

“I wouldn’t be awed if you’d let me come here before.” She grouched teasingly, as their relationship wasn’t _theirs_ without some banter. Anko made to elbow her, but Sakura, already used to sudden elbows or legs aiming to trip her up merely dodged and grinned, stepping out of the tokujo’s reach and sticking her tongue out teasingly.

“Cheeky shit.” Anko swore and lunged playfully, making Sakura yelp and stumble as she tried and failed to dodge and got a noogie for her troubles. “Now listen here brat, I bullied Ibiki into letting you take a shot at the Iwa-nin before we off him, so when you’re there, remember that my reputation hangs in the balance. You screw up and you’ll be doing dodge training with my snakes instead of sleeping for a _week._ ” Her senpai threatened and Sakura _paled._ Anko had made her do ‘dodge training’ before, and the rosette reckoned that there were few things she hated and simultaneously feared more than a repeat of that. Not only were the snakes slimy and disgusting, they were also deceptively fast and agile, and Sakura had ended up with more bruises and tiny puncture wounds all over her body than she could count, and with the rules Anko had set before she sicced her snakes on her, each ‘hit’ was ten sit-ups.

Sakura had not been able to move from her bed the next day.

Finally, after what felt like hours of wandering the dim corridors of T&I, Anko opened a door and gestured her in, following after and sealing the door once it closed behind them. Glancing around the room, Sakura noted Morino-san standing by the one-way window and a man she didn’t know and then, once she actually took the time to peer through the window, she saw a bare cell, the walls a drab, gray concrete and a metal table with a chair on either side. One of the chairs was occupied by the prisoner – he was pale and drawn, his red hair hanging limply by his shoulders, his cheekbones far more pronounced than Sakura reasoned was healthy, his skin was sallow and of a sickly yellowish colour that spoke of weeks without going outside. There were manacles around his wrists and ankles, heavy and clearly too tight, and Sakura realised with a start that though she could see him, she couldn’t _sense him._

 _Chakra suppressants._ She realised belatedly.

For a moment, Sakura felt sick. She’d seen how prisoners were held before, true, but they had mostly been low-level thugs which meant that they weren’t kept for too long as they tended to break and spill any valuable information much sooner. This however… she chanced a glance at Anko, briefly entertaining the thought that her senpai had intentionally kept her away from seeing the darker side of their job because she knew it wouldn’t sit right with her. Then she promptly dismissed it. Anko and _concern for other people’s feelings?_ If it hadn’t been for that short time in the hospital, just after they got back from that dreaded mission where Tamaki- Sakura’s thought process stalled for a minute, but she grit her teeth and barrelled through the instinctive stab of grief and guilt that came at the mere thought of the blond- where Tamaki _died,_ she’d have thought that Anko simply didn’t _do_ emotions.

But she knew better.

Then, her gaze fell to the figure on the opposite side of the metal table and she smiled against her will. “Tonbo-san!” she breathed quietly, but loudly enough to alert Morino-san to her presence.

The Head of Interrogation scrutinised her, the man by his side merely glancing over at her then turning back to the interrogation taking place in clear dismissal, but Ibiki’s eyes rested on her.

“Did Mitarashi tell you what she roped you into?” he asked calmly, his voice cold but not unkindly so.

So Sakura swallowed down her initial apprehension and nodded curtly. “Yes, Morino-san. Senpai mentioned a prisoner whom you’ve already been interrogating for a while.” She admitted carefully, suddenly realising that Anko hadn’t really told her much _else._

Ibiki seemed to be thinking along the same lines as his eyebrow climbed up his forehead and he scowled, turning to her senpai. “There’s such a thing as undersharing, Mitarashi. Or were you intentionally trying to send the kid in there _blind_?” he demanded, and his tone was far harsher than it had been with the rosette, but Anko just waved him off.

“Why should I have bothered if I knew you’d fill her in anyhow? You’re far too predictable Ibiki.” She remarked, smirking evilly even as Ibiki’s scowl deepened and his chakra _spiked._ Then, he offered Sakura a scroll.

“Everything we’ve extracted so far.” He bit out, and Sakura took the proffered scroll wordlessly, pulling it open with a flick of a finger and scanning its contents. The prisoner was from Iwagakure, he was in his late twenties, a little-known jounin but a jounin nonetheless. The team that had brought him in caught him trying to steal from a small Village by the border between Fire and Earth Country that Konoha was allied with, but due to the fact that what he’d attempted to steal was a heavily-guarded and a well-kept secret, his mere presence in the vault where the object had been kept had raised the issue of an internal leak. Yet in all of the notes that the various interrogators had made, one thing remained largely unknown – why, exactly, had an Iwagakure jounin been in the vault he had no business even _knowing about?_

Just then, Tonbo stepped through the door, closing it securely behind him before he turned and grinned at the rosette. “Pinky! Long time no see! What brings you here?” and his cheerful demeanour managed to put a smile on the rosette’s face, and she greeted him back, albeit only half as enthusiastically.

“Tonbo-san!” she called, waving cheerily, a greeting which felt painfully inappropriate for where they were. “I’ve been around. You know how it is – errand here, errand there.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Then senpai tried to break into my house and dragged me here.” She added teasingly, getting a squawk from Anko and dodging the kunai that sailed for her head, letting it thunk into the concrete wall instead. She _was_ getting better at dodging, however unorthodox her teachers’ methods were.

Tonbo chuckled and ruffled her hair, messing up her ponytail in the process and making Sakura scowl fiercely at him from under her bangs. “I take it you’re going in after me? Good luck. Remember what you told me all those months ago and you’ll be fine.”

And suddenly, just like that, the atmosphere changed, and Sakura grew serious. She knew _exactly_ what Tonbo was referring to, and just like that, she knew _exactly_ what to do.

_“I’m a genjutsu specialist, Tonbo-san. I can alter reality_ _itself_ _. I ask you to answer this: how would_ _you_ _feel if, after days of the isolation you spoke of, days of starvation, of chakra suppression, you’d start to feel the walls closing in on you? Or if you saw the chains restraining you turn into snakes, or grow heavier, shorter, hotter? Or if every man who came to interrogate you was faceless, or seven foot tall? If you can’t access your chakra, you can’t break the illusion. What do you think would happen after_ _weeks_ _of this? You’d stop trusting your own mind. And who can you trust, when you’re in the middle of enemy territory and at the mercy of your captors, if you can’t even trust your own mind?”_

She glanced at Anko one last time, got an encouraging nod in return, then flashed through a few seals, took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

* * *

What Issei saw wasn’t her, Sakura made sure of that with a basic Chameleon genjutsu layered under the ‘main attraction’ while she kept her chakra carefully masked as she slipped into the room through the open door, shutting it carefully behind her as she focused on the illusion she had created.

What Issei saw was a man, slender and over six feet tall, dressed much like Ibiki but without the bandana, and _without a face._ His head was bald, his skin pale, and where his facial features would’ve been, there was a smooth surface.

She saw his eyes widen as she made the illusion sit down opposite him, pulling out the chair and pushing it in in tandem with the genjutsu, while she herself leant against the wall, half-way between the prisoner and the interrogator’s chair, dropping the camouflage when she was sure the prisoner was fully ensnared in her technique.

Sakura took a deep, silent breath, then carefully didn’t say anything, nor did she make her creation speak. After a few seconds, Issei settled back in his seat, though far more tense than before, his eyes flickering nervously from side-to-side.

That was the thing with genjutsu – if you didn’t have access to your chakra, you couldn’t break it even if you knew it was there. Sometimes, you couldn’t even _sensei it._

And Sakura planned to take full advantage of that.

But she had patience.

After about three minutes passed, she carefully worked through the seals for the second layer of her illusion, making sure she could still access the first if she needed. She had already created an upsetting visual stimulus, now it was time to work on the physical.

Carefully, so as not to make the change too noticeable, she worked on his somatosensory cortex, particularly on the thermoreceptors around his wrists. Sakura could hear her own words in her head, like a mantra – _what if you saw the chains restraining you turn into snakes, or grow heavier, shorter, hotter?_

She intended to make the manacles around his wrists hot. Unbearably so. But not immediately. After all, a frog dumped into hot water would jump out immediately, but if it had been placed in cold water which was gradually heated… well. Everyone knew the answer to that particular scenario.

It took about five minutes of utter silence, but eventually, Sakura saw the prisoner frown, then scratch his wrist. A few seconds later and a slight twist of chakra on her part saw him try to pull them down, then, when that didn’t work, he tried to force a finger between the manacle and the skin of his wrist.

But there was no give.

_Just a little bit more…_

Another pulse of chakra, and now Issei’s expression turned from confusion and discomfort to pain. She saw his eyes dart from his cuffed wrists to the still faceless, still silent mirage of the interrogator.

And there was clear unease in his gaze.

Sakura took it a step further, carefully monitoring her chakra levels. Normally, genjutsu weren’t all too chakra-taxing, as with normal area-effect illusions, she could just create it and forget about it till someone stumbled into it and dispelled it. But this time, as she created the third layer, she had to keep the other two accessible layers accessible. Then, despite her best intentions, she felt her concentration slip and the control she had over her chakra wavered. It was just a second, but her first layer flickered out of existence before it reappeared. She was lucky, insanely so, that the prisoner had been looking down at his wrists, his agitation becoming more and more pronounced as she stimulated the thermoreceptors in the sensitive skin and he didn’t notice his ‘interrogator’ disappear.

Quickly, but carefully so as not to lose her hold over her illusions any more than she already had, she finished the third layer. A few seconds later, she saw his eyes snap from his wrists to the walls.

_They were moving closer._

Of course, the actual walls were still exactly as they had been since this cell had been built, or so Sakura assumed. But her illusion carefully suggested otherwise, and it didn’t seem like her victim had clocked on to the fact that she was there and it wasn’t really his mind that was lying to him – in fact, it was easier for her if he believed precisely that. Weeks of solitary confinement in a cell no bigger than four by two metres, with no windows nor contact with the outside world apart from enemy shinobi who came to interrogate him didn’t exactly provide Sakura with a stable mind to work on.

And, for once, that was exactly what she was counting on.

Sakura always had an idea of what went on in her illusions – that’s not to say she knew what people saw in the Hell Viewing technique when she cast it on them, but anything which was an area-effect or a elicited a response from a particular individual, she roughly knew what they were seeing.

Here, in a controlled environment and with only one subject to work on, she knew exactly what Issei was seeing.

The walls were still moving closer. The manacles were still burning his wrists. The interrogator sitting opposite him was still faceless, like a puppet, and silent like a grave.

She also knew what he wasn’t seeing – _her._

And then, seeing the slight tremor of fear that shook his hand, a tremor which she wouldn’t have spotted if she hadn’t been looking for the slightest of reactions that what she was doing was _working,_ Sakura moved onto the most experimental part of what she had planned.

A trial run, so to speak, for the technique she’d spent the last few weeks designing and the last few months mulling over.

There was a jutsu that Anko had shown her when she decided to stay at T&I, something she said every Interrogator knew how to use, but few ever achieved a mastery of it; Psycho Mind Transmission.

But from what Sakura had worked out, she didn’t _need_ a mastery.

In one of her sessions with Inoichi, she’d asked, making sure to keep her tone light, her question seemingly innocuous, whether the Yamanaka could see or differentiate between the memories of their subjects when they possessed them. Inoichi had looked surprised at the question and Sakura hastily apologised for infringing on Clan secrets, but the blond had waved her off, saying that it was hardly a secret, just an unusual question.

He then proceeded to explain that the memories weren’t easily viewable like a film or a projection, but the memories with the strongest emotional attachment to them – whether the attachment was positive or negative was of little importance – were always the easiest to locate and view. When Sakura had asked why, he’d said that the body’s subconscious response is to protect, and the best way to protect our insides is through chakra. Which is why we unconsciously coat our organs with chakra, and though memories aren’t solid, tactile things, the same process takes place in our brains.

Which is why Sakura was certain she wouldn’t need complete mastery of the Mind Transmission jutsu – she just needed to find the brightest clump of chakra and bring that to the surface, hoping that it was what she needed.

So she did just that.

It seemed as if Issei had retreated into himself, his eyes no longer flickering nervously from side to side, his fingers no longer trying to pry off the manacles, but still. His eyes were also glazed over, like he wasn’t _quite_ there. Carefully, Sakura cancelled the third layer, almost sighing in relief as her control stabilised and her attention didn’t feel like it was stretched thin anymore. Then, she got behind the prisoner, and flashed through the seals.

At the stage where she currently was with the Psycho Mind Transmission, it was less like flicking through an album, which was what Anko had described it as, and more of an endless corridor of locked doors, and she only had the keys to some of them. Luckily, she didn’t need his every memory – she was sure Ibiki had already been through all that was accessible. What she needed was –

_A-ha!_

Sakura grasped the chakra, the memory, and brought it forth. It didn’t play like a film, nor was it like a storybook, but more like… snapshots. The colour, the smell of jasmine perfume, the feeling of warm skin pressed against hers, a whisper, a curtain of dark hair falling around her, quiet footsteps, a giggle, a soft weight pressed against her legs, two names, two faces…

She drew back, her heart aching.

_A wife and a son._

The rosette closed her eyes, for the first time since she started working in T&I, she understood why it was called the least desirable Division.

She felt like a monster.

And she hadn’t even done anything yet.

With nary a thought, Sakura cancelled the technique, then the second layer of genjutsu while she was at it.

Issei didn’t even look like he noticed.

Then, she cancelled the genjutsu altogether, and pressed her hands together, gathering chakra and bringing forth the image that seemed seared into her retinas. The henge made her into a tall brunette, dark, mahogany locks framing her face and reaching down past her waist, her skin a dark olive instead of porcelain, her shinobi attire replaced with a long red dress, the sleeves billowing around her wrists, the neckline modest, but telling. Civilian. Harmless. Yuuko. A seamstress. Issei’s wife.

Slowly, Sakura straightened, then walked around to the chair to sit down opposite him. There was no reaction. Although all of the genjutsu was gone, Issei hadn’t seemed to notice.

Sakura sighed. Reached out so her hand gently covered his on the table.

She was out of ideas after this.

It was time for the final deception.

“Hello, Issei.” She murmured, removing her hand.

The reaction was instantaneous.

* * *

“Do you think it’s wise?” Tonbo asked the second the door shut behind Sakura, his face turned towards Anko. “This isn’t exactly an easy job to start her off as an interrogator on.”

Anko shrugged, though there was a slightly worried downward twist to her usual smirk. “The kid’s good. I need to see how she’ll handle herself after- after Iwa.”

Tonbo was about to retort, but Ibiki twitched and turned accusing eyes to Anko. “Where is she?” he demanded, and both Tonbo and Anko turned to stare out the window and point out that ‘she’s right here, she just walked through those doors’, only that –

She wasn’t.

It took a moment, but then Anko sighed, and the corner of her lips that had been previously turned downwards now twitched upwards. “Genjutsu.” She identified easily, “Area-effect. As well as something else that she must’ve started it even before she walked in.”

Tonbo frowned and cast out his senses. “I can just about sense her, but barely. She’s leaning on-” he cut off, because just then, Sakura reappeared, leaning casually on the wall, one of her legs bent and propping her up, while her hands were folded in a Rat seal, her forehead marred with a frown.

All three of them turned to look at the prisoner. He looked… spooked. Uneasy. Worst of all, he wasn’t even looking at Sakura.

“That’s not what I was expecting.” Anko admitted quietly. Her and Sakura had worked through interrogation tactics, she’d even quizzed the girl multiple times afterwards, made her watch interrogations and identify the different methods used. But this… it depended what the rosette was showing in her illusion, but so far, this was very much _not_ standard procedure.

Especially since Sakura had yet to ask anything.

The minutes dragged on, then Anko frowned. “Is there something wrong with his restraints?”

He was rubbing them, frowning at the metal, and with every minute that ticked by, he looked more and more uneasy.

Then, Tonbo laughed.

It was more like a chuckle, really – short, quiet and more startled than anything, but there was a smirk on his face. “I know what she’s doing.” He breathed, and there was an edge of… surprise? To it. Maybe even pride. “She’s breaking his mind.”

After another ten minutes, it became clear _how,_ and Ibiki’s breath hissed through his teeth as he understood. “Psychological torture.” He murmured, then turned to Anko, more curious than accusatory this time. “Did you really-?”

“I mentioned it.” The kunoichi replied, rubbing her shoulder absently. “But never like this.”

They watched, only able to guess what was happening as the illusion was very much invisible to them, and all they had to gauge by was the steadily more panicked and worsening by the minute state of the prisoner, as well as the growing frown of concentration that pulled on Sakura’s brow.

Then, there was a slight shift in the chakra in the air, and Sakura moved for the first time in about half an hour. But what followed wasn’t any more reassuring.

“You-!” Tonbo began, recognising the chakra shift required for one of his signature techniques. “Can she use it?”

Anko looked baffled. “She hasn’t mastered it. She _knows_ she hasn’t mastered it. Why is she-?” but not a minute later, they had their answer, as Sakura seemed to have found what she was looking for.

And then, it wasn’t Sakura who stood on the other side of the glass.

Or, it was, but not by _appearance._

The henge’d brunette sat down, leaning over, _touching_ Issei, and within seconds of her quiet greeting, the man snapped back to life.

He gripped her wrist, eyes flickering over her face, filling with tears. His grip tightened.

(Inwardly, Anko congratulated Sakura on managing to hold onto the henge – the grip looked bruising.)

“Yuuko.” He croaked, coughed, and tried again. “My love. W-why are you here? How… Where’s Takahiro?”

Sakura, still holding onto the henge, gently extracted her hand, then stroked his own briefly before taking back her hands and putting them on her lap. Under the table.

( _Hidden from view,_ Anko noted, but didn’t comment.)

“They caught me.” Sakura admitted quietly, softly, voice full of remorse. “They sent ninja to our home. They brought me here, but Takahiro, he- he-!”

“No…” Issei paled, his eyes widening. “Please, no. Tell me that he didn’t- that he wasn’t-!”

Sakura just nodded, raising a hand to swipe at her eyes, eyes which Anko could _see_ were glistening with unshed tears.

(Anko had never known the rosette could act. Or so well. Or just how _good_ she was at this job. Because she hadn’t actually revealed anything. Hadn’t said anything clearer. It was ‘they’ and ‘home’ and ‘here’ – nothing concrete, nothing that would give away that she was making things up on the spot, that she didn’t _know._ And Issei was buying it.)

And then, Sakura’s hand fell under the table, and Anko could see her flashing through more seals, but her gaze remained on the prisoner, her face full of grief. Anko noticed, not for the first time, that the rosette never called out her techniques. And, for the first time, realised just how much control she really must have. She beat her student in their spars almost every time – the girl was good, but Anko was simply _better;_ more experienced, with bigger chakra coils and nastier jutsu. But there were still things that made even her wary, and being able to twist reality to the point of fooling an Iwagakure jounin into believing he was talking with his presumed dead wife _without even calling out a single one of her techniques_ was something which made Anko just the slightest bit wary. Because Sakura was nowhere near a _master_ illusionist. But if she ever did become one…

Anko shook off the train of thought when Issei’s eyes widened and he reached out towards where Sakura was still sitting, but his eyes were trained over her right shoulder, by the door.

“No-!” he choked out, and the three behind the glass realised that there must be another genjutsu at work. “No, please, don’t take her away, I will tell you everything, please, just spare me my wife, I will give you _all the information you want,_ just please-!”

And Ibiki _moved._

The door banged open, and Sakura jumped but the chakra in the air that signified the genjutsu persisted. Then she disappeared once again, just as the illusion broke and Issei slumped in his seat, tears drying on his cheeks.

Ibiki sat across from him. “Your wife will not come to harm.” He rumbled, then fixed the prisoner with his coldest stare. “Now, about that information…”

The door closed, gently, and there was a shift in chakra as the technique dispelled and a second later Sakura appeared, henge-free, staggering slightly before Tonbo caught her.

Anko stared at her for a few seconds, temporarily speechless, before she extended a hand and lightly ruffled her student’s hair. “You have sixty seconds,” she murmured, inwardly delighting in Sakura’s wary snap to attention as she continued. “to explain what you did… before I start yelling and sic my snakes on you.”

Sakura paled comically fast while behind her, Tonbo, predictably, started laughing. Anko felt her lips twitch into a grin.

_Maybe a student wasn’t so bad…_

* * *

Sakura was glad that Anko seemed to be joking, but more than that, she was glad Tonbo was still holding her up. Her knees felt weak not just from using up a considerable chunk of her chakra, but also from the realisation of what she just did.

She didn’t want to talk about what exactly she’d made Issei see. Particularly that last illusion. She had made him think that his wife was being taken away, that she would be executed if he didn’t confess, and that her death would be on his hands.

It left a bittersweet taste in her mouth.

On one hand, she had managed what she set out to do; she found a weakness, not a physical one or something he could’ve prepared for, guarded against, but something natural, human. And then, she exploited it. Twisted it to suit her needs. Made his love for his wife and child into his downfall. He must’ve resisted giving away more than the barest minimum for _weeks._ And then, in about an hour, she broke it. Yes, she was proud of that, but more than that, she felt…

She felt disgusted with herself.

Because she had inadvertedly proved _Orochimaru_ right. Love was stronger than fear. A greater motivator, a bigger downfall. And that, more than anything, made her skin crawl with disgust.

 _But,_ a small voice in her head piped up hopefully, _if I can master it… if I can learn to use it in the field… if I can_ protect _people with it… if I can protect_ Genma _… then this will have been worth it._

She briefly wondered what Inoichi would say to that rationalisation, and made herself snort.

And then, before she had to meet Anko’s inquiring gaze or start explaining exactly what she did, there was a knock on the door.

Anko opened it, bemused, to find a harried-looking, panting Genin Corps messenger. “I-I’m sorry.” He rasped, trying to stabilise his breathing. “But Tsunade-sama has requested Haruno Sakura in her office immediately.”

Sakura exchanged a stunned glance with Anko, spared a quick glance at Issei through the window, wagged her fingers at Tonbo, and then, she was _running_.

* * *

 When the ANBU agents suddenly materialised in front of her desk, Tsunade didn’t even raise her eyes from the paperwork she was filling out. Instead, she let the duo wait till she was done, then she put the papers away and steepled her fingers under her chin, her gaze landing on the two still-crouching shinobi in front of her.

“Relax.” She ordered, waving her hand dismissively as she stood from the desk. Boar and Fox obediently stood, but their posture was far from relaxed, though Tsunade knew better than to be surprised – both were two of the longest-serving agents currently serving in the corps, and she knew that they wouldn’t have survived even half as long without constant, near obsessive vigilance. Instead, she dug through her drawers and pulled out a bottle of sake, for once grateful for the oath of silence all ANBU were sworn to when it came to their dealings with the Hokage, even if her drinking was more of an open secret nowadays. “I don’t have a mission for you as such – it’s more like advice. A favour, even, maybe.” She assured them, leisurely pouring the sake into a small cup.

“Godaime-sama?” Fox asked, a note of confusion in the otherwise monotone voice. Still, Tsunade counted that as a win – she knew this particular agent (the purple hair was quite noticeable) – and even that small amount of emotion was a success in her books. Boar, on the other hand, remained impassive, merely waiting for his Hokage to continue. Which was just so _boring_ in Tsunade’s eyes. She liked screwing with her operatives.

“I’ll be asking the two of you to shadow a potential recruit.” She announced at last, growing serious and not missing how the two shinobi stiffened in response. “There’s no hiding the fact that our ranks took a serious hit during Orochimaru’s invasion. While I wouldn’t mind taking advantage of the peacetime to gradually build it back up, especially since Seduction and Tracking Divisions are still functioning fairly normally, but Sabotage was practically decimated. I have my eyes on a few Chunin Corps members who could be recruited and trained up, as well as a handful of recently promoted jounin once they run a few legitimate missions, but there’s a wannabe assassin fluttering around the chunin ranks and T&I who we might be able to pull into ANBU before her jounin promotion. You two have spent almost three quarters of your lives in the shadow ranks; I need your honest opinion whether you think she’d be suited to your line of work or whether it’d be like sending sheep to the slaughter.”

There was a slight twitch from Fox once the pronoun was revealed, but Boar just gave a brusque nod and caught the file once Tsunade flung it at him. Fox peered over her captain’s shoulder and there was another slight twitch, then her mask raised ever so slightly and Tsunade thought those brown eyes were boring into her in accusation. She wondered if Fox was thinking of the last thirteen year old they’d allowed into ANBU and how that had turned out.

The kid’s record wasn’t doing her many favours in regards to dissuading that comparison – 80 D-Ranks, 13 C-Ranks and 3 A-Ranks for a kunoichi only a year out of the Academy, as well as a completed apprenticeship in Torture and Interrogation of all places was not a record that spoke of a peacetime mentality, but of the child soldiers that were churned out like cannon-fodder and forced to adapt or die ( _she adamantly did not think of the tales she heard of a pint-sized Uchiha mastering a D-Rank technique to the point of being able to take out whole legions of enemies, or of a boy with scarecrow hair whose first claim to fame was inventing an assassination technique at an age when he still should have been in the Academy, she was not going to do this to herself, she was going to make sure this_ never happened again-!)

She supposed Fox had some reason to be wary.

“Even if you decide she could do it, she’ll only be pulled in when there’s an assassination that we’re understaffed for. She’s determined to partner up with one of our tokubetsu jounin and take the less ‘under the table’ missions, though she’s still sticking by her decision to specialise in assassination.”

Tsunade cast an assessing glance at Boar. Kami only knew the man had lived through hell and come out vicious and twisted but a hell of a good shinobi – she genuinely wondered what he thought of this idea.

“Boar?” she asked instead, waiting till he shut the file and raised his masked face to show he was listening. “What do you think?”

There was a moment’s pause, and then a gruff voice that would put Ibiki to shame filled the air. “Shadow, but do not help. Analyse and assess, but don’t engage or interact with?” he summarised, and Tsunade thought that summary through, inwardly marveling at how _cold_ it seemed, then she realised that it was exactly what she wanted them to do.

“Exactly.” She confirmed, and got another one of those mildly alarmed twitches from Fox.

“And if she screws up?” the kunoichi asked, a hint of the trademark steel settling back in her voice and posture.

Tsunade pondered over that, then frowned. “Chigiri Protocols.” She announced at last, noting that this time both shinobi stiffened, even if almost imperceptibly.

_Bloody Mist Protocols – you screw up, you get left behind._

But all she got verbally were two steely ‘Hai, Tsunade-sama’, followed by a quiet “When do we leave?”

“As soon as the kid is briefed, which should be right about-” they all felt a muted chakra signature stop outside the door, before a quiet knock sounded, and the knob turned, the door opening and the kunoichi in question stepping through, “-now.”

* * *

When Sakura stepped through the door, she almost froze on the spot. Two masked ANBU members, both kitted out to the max and exuding a ‘do not approach’ aura stood in front of Tsunade’s desk, while the Godaime herself looked very self-satisfied.

“Sakura, finally. I was worried Mitarashi had you down in the dungeons again.” The Godaime greeted her, and the rosette almost keeled over from the familiar, _teasing_ greeting in front of the two ANBU operatives. She almost stumbled as she walked in, shutting the door behind her and bowing to the Hokage.

“Apologies, Tsunade-sama. Senpai decided to ‘let me loose’ on an Iwagakure prisoner.” She replied, wondering how much cheek she could get away with. “The messenger had a hard time finding me.”

“I’ll need to give Mitarashi restrictions on how much she can just show up and take you from active duty.” Tsunade sighed, then chucked a scroll at her. “I have a mission for you, if you’re still determined to go down the assassination path.”

Sakura nodded to show that yes, she was still very much up for going down the jounin-track with the specialisation in assassination, and unfurled the scroll.

She promptly blanched, a reaction she was sure did not escape the two ANBU agents in the room with her. On the page were five names, names and about three to four lines of intel on each. And a month to neutralise them all.

“Fox and Boar will shadow you, but they will not help you. They will assess you, but they won’t clear up your messes. You have a month, and if you succeed, it’ll be your first B-Rank and I’ll bring up your potential jounin promotion at the next Clan Heads meeting.”

Sakura grew even paler at the notion of an ANBU escort, but then the promise of speeding up her promotion process made her relax. This was what she wanted. So she smiled and sealed up the scroll, turned to the two senior agents and bowed.

“I am Haruno Sakura. I promise to try not to cause you trouble over the next month.” She introduced herself, then straightened up, eyes flickering from the white to the black cloaks, before she bowed again. “I’ll be in your care, Boar-taicho.”

This time, even Sakura didn’t miss the slight start the Fox masked agent did at her address, and she mentally thanked Genma for the stories he told her of his time in ANBU, including the hierarchy and forms of address.

“So you accept?” Tsunade asked, and Sakura nodded, stuffing the scroll into her pouch.

“When do we leave?”

“Immediately.” Boar-taicho replied, stiff and gruff as his mask implied. “Meet at the northern Gates in fifteen minutes.”

Sakura nodded, bowed to the Godaime and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Tsunade glanced at the two operatives, noting the air of curiosity that now surrounded the duo. “Well?”

It was Boar who answered, sounding, for once, a mix between intrigue and concern. “She knows our protocols.” He observed, pulling at his arm guard. “How?”

This time, Tsunade smirked. Oh, how she loved messing with her shinobi. “Her jounin partner?” she waited a moment to draw out the suspense, then grinned. “Is Genma Shiranui.”

The resulting cough and stumble were enough blackmail for _months._

* * *

 

_Hey Genma!_

_Sorry for disappearing like this - got called out for a mission. It’s supposed to last a month, so I’m bummed I couldn’t say bye properly; I could do with some advice_ _J there’re leftovers in the fridge and Namiashi-san’s wife has her ultrasound in a week, so you might want to go to that. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away!_

_Love,_

_Sakura_

Genma groaned at the post-it he found on the fridge, whacking his head against it once to banish the leftover alcohol coursing through his system while Aoba stumbled closer to read over his shoulder.

“Wait, so, riddle me this,” he hiccoughed, laughing while pointing at the pink slip of paper, “is this kid your charge, your partner, your _mom_ or your girlfriend?” he demanded, attempting to duck the swipe at his head but failing and faceplanting the fridgedoor instead. That didn’t seem to be enough to deter him, cause he just reached up and plucked the paper off; “Oh, Genma, I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye~!” he read out in a really theatrical, exaggerated high-pitched voice. “Oh, don’t forget to eat! Remember that your best-friend’s girlfriend, the best friend who you’ve known _longer than I’ve been alive_ , is having a kid soon! And the last one is just, like, okay, maybe justified, you do tend to get into a lot of stupid shit.” Aoba snorted at the end, passing the note off to Iwashi who just sighed and passed it back to Genma.

“I didn’t know she knew that about Eri.” Raidou, who was the last to walk into the kitchen, admitted, looking a mix between surprised and pleased.

Genma waved him off, getting a glass of water to stave off the bitch of a hangover he could already feel incoming. “Kid is like a calendar. Or an archive. Once something’s there, it’s there forever.”

Aoba nodded then faked snoring. “I don’t know about y’all but I came out to get blackout drunk and I’m still coherent.” He flailed then slid further down on the floor, foot snapping out to kick Genma’s ankle. “Where’s your booze, my man?”

The brunet snorted but obligingly moved over to the sake and vodka cabinet, nudging Iwashi along the way. “How much you wanna bet he’ll start snoring in the next ten minutes?” he murmured, getting a grin in response.

“No bet.” The chunin replied, smirking at his friend’s affronted expression.

No sooner had Genma turned around with the sake and vodka in each hand did the sound of soft snoring reach their ears.

Smirking, the tokujo winked at Iwashi. “Called it.”

* * *

Running through the forests with two ANBU beside her made Sakura aware of another thing she had been neglecting in her training – stamina. Stamina and general conditioning were her weak points, and barely two hours since they’d started running, it was already showing. It took every ounce of her chakra control to calculate the exact amount she could use to augment her muscles without permanent strain, but after an hour she felt her calve go tight, the muscle pulling and straining with every jarring landing on the tree branch. Her body was simply not used to travelling at the speed the ANBU agents had set for an extended period of time, but she didn’t want to ask them to slow down because they had only been going for two hours.

During one particular landing she managed to stick quite solidly, she made the executive decision to cut off her nerves with chakra, swiping her blue-glowing hand just under her knee and completely numbing her leg from knee down.

The next landing didn’t hurt, but she saw her ankle roll as she took off.

It didn’t hurt.

She kept going.

It wasn’t until two hours later, four in total since they’d left the Village, when they were nearing the Valley of the End that Boar-taicho dropped behind her. A few minutes later, he landed on the same branch as her and gripped her shoulder, pulling her to a stop on the ground, Fox landing silently beside them.

“Undo whatever you did.” Boar ordered gruffly, still holding her shoulder in a bruising grip.

Fox stiffened, but Sakura just eyed her captain unsurely, her vision swimming slightly and her breathing laboured from the exertion, but she gathered up enough energy to frown.  

“I don’t care if you go slower,” Boar ground out. “but if you intentionally damage yourself just to keep up with us, I will have you demoted.”

Feeling her blood run cold, Sakura nodded jerkily and sat down on the ground, straightening out her leg and reconnecting the nerves. Immediately, a wave of pain so immense it made her head spin and tears spring to her eyes washed over her, and she forced down the bile that threatened to climb up her throat at the nausea that took over her. Her ankle, calve and knee were screaming at her, so the moment she managed to blink away the tears and could see clearly once again, she set to undoing the damage she caused, ignoring the signed conversation going on beside her.

Genma had explained to her ANBU signs, but he said it would be against regulation to teach them to her, so she knew of them, but could not recognise nor use Konoha’s silent language.

It took her half an hour to fix up her leg enough to put weight on it, and the moment she could, she walked over to Boar-taicho with her head hanging low and dropped into a 90 degree bow, absently watching how droplets of sweat trickled off her nose and hit the ground, darkening the dirt.

“I’m sorry for inconveniencing you, Boar-taicho, and for slowing down the mission.” She apologised stiffly, not straightening till her captain scoffed.

“I did not expect you to keep up this pace. You were supposed to know your limitations and realise that you could not maintain this speed and _speak to me_ , not try to force your body into obeying you. What you did was stupid and pointless, and it also showed you do not trust your team leader.” Boar told her, and the bland monotone was even more cutting than had he shouted.

Sakura jumped to defend herself, then wilted and gritted her teeth. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then craned her head up to look into the mask’s eye-slits. “It won’t happen again, taicho.”

With a brusque nod, Boar jumped back up the trees and they set off. The first target came into view just fifteen minutes later – a civilian merchant who’d been selling information to Kumogakure spies in exchange for safe passage through their lands and supplies. He was pushing a cart of goods along the path leading to the safe non-ninja way down the cliffs of honourable Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha and back towards Konoha. Sakura pulled out her scroll, triple-checked that it was really him who was her first target, then, leaving Fox and Boar in the trees where the merchant was going to pass, she backtracked to the edge of the cliffs, all the while her brain was working in overtime to try and figure out how to kill the merchant without getting too ‘up-close and personal’. She noted that the forest path took a sharp left just before the cliff edge and led to a well-camouflaged staircase that wound all the way down the cliff and ended by the river below. She peered over the cliff again, noting the rocky surface beneath, all the while sticking to the ground with chakra in her feet – she wasn’t about to test whether a ninja could survive a four hundred meter fall.

And then, she knew what she was going to do.

She backtracked to where Fox and Boar-taicho had moved off to, the merchant now less than a hundred meters away from the edge of the cliff, and she began working. She flashed through the handsigns for the False Surroundings technique, making sure the change was small, subtle, hardly noticeable, before she started layering another simple illusion, replicating the sounds and smells and trying to mute the sound of the waterfall, give the false sense of distance.

She could feel Fox looking at her curiously, but she wasn’t about to reveal herself to the target or leave her spot in the trees, no, she had a much better idea to test out.

_Twenty meters. Fifteen. Ten. Five. Three. One-!_

It was the strong grip that the merchant had on the cart that brought him to his demise – once the front wheel no longer touched flat ground but was instead dangling in the air, the rest of the cart followed, and with it, the merchant. Fox let out a surprised sound, but Sakura merely slunk over to the edge and peered over it at the mangled form that lay some four hundred metres below, broken on the rocks.

“I’d say he’s dead,” she began when neither of her escorts moved to either speak or descend the cliff. “but I can go and check if you want me to. Taicho?”

There was a rapid exchange of hand signals between the two ANBU agents, then Fox dashed off the cliff and Sakura was left alone with Boar. The man turned to her and demanded an explanation with one small wag of his left pointer finger from side to side. Even Sakura knew that was the universal signal for ‘what’ and she clued in to what he wanted.

“Genjutsu.” She explained simply. She was _tired._ Close combat or long explanations were not high in her books of things she wanted to do today. “I made him think the turn was further away than it actually was.”

There was a thoughtful pause, and then a nod. After that, they were left to wait for Fox to return, while Sakura mentally congratulated herself on getting 20% of her mission over and done with without any need for blood to be spilled. Or, spilled on _her_ at the very least.

When Fox popped back up, a journal and Kumo headband in her hands, they set off again, veering off north-east towards the Hidden Hot Water Village, where their next target was last reported.

They made camp at midnight, just before the border of Fire Country, setting out bedrolls on the ground and establishing watch hours. Sakura had last watch so she simply crawled under the blanket she’d brought and tried to ignore the fact that although she was directly responsible for the death of another person, she didn’t feel guilty.

She thought back to her sessions with Inoichi, to what the blond had told her about compartmentalising and rationalisation – she knew, rationally, that she wanted to do jobs like these, because they would help her be with Genma and keep him from harm. Was it really all that surprising then, that she subconsciously convinced herself that murder was just another step towards protecting her precious people? Or that, not even a full twelve hours after, she could hardly bring herself to feel guilty for what she’d done to Issei?

Sleep took over her before she could think any more about just how her Academy self would’ve reacted to that realisation.

Sakura woke when it was still dark, absently noting that Fox was on watch now so at least two hours must’ve passed since she’d fallen asleep as Boar was already laying on his bedroll and not on the branch where she last saw him. Wincing at the pull in her muscles, the rosette sat up and pulled out a rations bar, her canteen and a scroll, then, wrapping her travelling cloak tighter around her shoulders, she stood up and made her way to where Fox was sitting.

“Good morning.” She mouthed to the kunoichi, getting a nod in return. Sakura gestured over to the branch beside Fox, then pointed at herself – a silent inquiry as to whether the woman would mind her company. She got a shrug for her efforts.

Settling down with her back leaning against the tree trunk and her scroll spread out over her pulled up knees, she settled in for a few hours of silence. At some point, Fox nodded to her and went off onto her own bedroll, and Sakura was left alone. In the quiet of the night, the pinkette let her mind wander, wondering how different she could’ve been had she never gone to the library after the mission to Wave, how her life would’ve differed. Would she ever willingly decide to be an assassin? Would she have found her knack for illusions, or would she have festered and tried to make do with what she had learned at the Academy? Would she have ever sought out Tsunade and asked to learn to heal?

She didn’t know, and frankly, thinking of the what-ifs was giving her a headache. With a quiet sigh, she got back to her fuinjutsu scroll and waited. Dawn came just as she could feel herself nodding off, and with the first ray of sunshine came a hand on her shoulder. Body moving faster than her mind could process, high-strung from a night of little rest and a constant feeling of being on-edge, Sakura dropped her scroll and pulled out a senbon from her hair, turning her body and freezing just before the tip of her weapon could pierce the skin and hit a fatal pressure point.

“Careless.” A voice called out from behind Sakura’s attacker, and her mind finally caught up with her body. Dropping her senbon as if burned, she stared at the mask of her teammate, and at the wide brown eyes hidden behind it, visible only through the small slits. “You wouldn’t do this to your fellow Black Ops, so what gave you the idea that startling a chunin was any less dangerous?” Boar-taicho chastised, and it took the rosette a moment to realise he was talking to Fox, who remained motionless. “If Haruno had been any less aware, you’d be dead.”

Sakura gawked at the blunt observation, then hastened to apologise. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t realise-!”

“Stop.” Boar’s voice cut her off, and she quietened. “That was precisely the reaction you should’ve had. Now hurry up, we’re leaving.”

Feeling slightly dazed, Sakura picked up her forgotten scroll and moved to pack away her bedroll, ignoring the silent conversation going on behind her. The thought that she’d very nearly killed her teammate was driving her mad, as was the realisation that her situational awareness needed serious work. But that was something she’d worry about later, as they were setting off, aiming to cross the border into Hot Water before the sun fully rose. They made good time, and by around nine in the morning on the fourth day since they’d set out, they arrived to the small village where Sakura’s next target was rumoured to be staying.

“You’ll need to do reconnaissance.” Boar announced gruffly once they stopped, the village gates in sight. “The intel we have is scarce, and there are far too many people around here to just rush in.”

Sakura nodded, though the idea of ‘reconnaissance’ made her wary. “Shall I henge? My hair is a bit distinctive.”

There was a moment when she could swear Boar was rolling his eyes at her, but all he said was, “Can you maintain it for a whole day?”

The pinkette scowled, affronted, then promptly realised that getting angry at an ANBU Captain would be a really _stupid_ idea on her part, so she just sighed and nodded sharply. Not waiting for the go-ahead, she unstrapped her pack and weapons, then flashed through the basic seals each Academy student was expected to know. A moment later, an aged-up Ino stood before her ANBU teammates, only with black hair and deep brown eyes instead of the characteristic pupil-less Yamanaka blue, clad in a simple but elegant crimson kimono.

“A geisha?” Fox asked, surprised but thoughtful. “It might just work.”

“If she can maintain it for the whole day.” Boar shot her down gruffly, then faced Sakura, his countenance stern. “Rendezvous at the inn, ask for Nishinoya Ichirou. Whether or not this succeeds depends solely on you.”

Sakura was about to nod, but Fox beat her to it. “We’re letting her in there alone? What about back-up?” she demanded, and the rosette wondered whether she was imagining the worry in the kunoichi’s voice.

Boar-taicho shook his head, “You remember what Tsunade-sama said: Chigiri protocols.”

Fox tensed, but didn’t reply, so Sakura took that as her dismissal. Taking one last look at the small file they had on her target and trying to commit his picture to memory, she set off towards the gates, muting her chakra to civilian levels and trying to remember all the lessons in kunoichi classes on infiltration missions. She gulped, took a deep breath, then shot her best smile at the gate guard – it was time to embrace the other side to being a kunoichi.

Meanwhile, in the trees, Fox and Boar watched the young chunin leave, a mix of trepidation and hope in their hearts as they watched the girl easily walk past the already-enamoured guards, then head to what they knew to be the nearest bar.

“This might _just_ work.” Boar echoed his subordinate’s earlier sentiment.

* * *

Hours passed, and Sakura truly felt sorry for any woman who earned her living through being a geisha. There had been times in the first few hours when she forgot she looked considerably older and better looking, so when civilian men easily the age of her dad had sidled up to her and started trying to flirt, her reactions had been far from positive. Then, as time went on and she made a point to keep an ear out for any gossip, she managed to quell her initial reactions and act her ‘role’ instead – she gave a smile instead of a startled jump, a laugh instead of a wince, a wink instead of a slap, all the while trying to ignore the bile that kept rising up her throat. Out of a morbid sense of curiosity, she ordered one cup of sake, a smile and a fluttering of eyelashes seemingly enough to keep the barman from asking her for any sort of identification.

The alcohol was vile. Sakura had no real point of comparison, but it was dry and seemed to suck up all the moisture from her mouth, and the aftertaste made her cough. The barman had laughed, joked that ‘it’s not a lady’s drink, so she was not to worry’ and obligingly slid over a glass of water which Sakura had to restrain herself from gulping down and instead drank in small dainty sips. It didn’t help that the only information she’d managed to collect so far had been only a slight expansion of what she’d already known – the target was a young nobleman, handsome, travelling around Hot Water in a pilgrimage right before he took over for his father. The women she had overheard had all been placing bets on which of them would end up in his bed, as the man was allegedly rather promiscuous.

Just then, a hand settled on Sakura’s waist, and it took every inch of her self-control not to jump. “What’s a fair maiden like you doing in a place like this?” a rich voice murmured in her ear, and she couldn’t help but turn to face the speaker.

“M-maiden?” she squeaked, as the question was far more polite than what she’d endured most of the day. And then, her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets – this was her target! Standing right in front of her, his hand on her back, a smile on his face. _He really is handsome._ She thought distractedly.

“Not only beautiful, but modest too!” the man crowed, an alluring smile pulling at his lips, his eyes hooded. “But you haven’t answered me – what could drive a woman such as yourself to spend her time in a seedy bar like this?”

Sakura closed her eyes for a split second, thinking back to all the romantic comedies she’d watched with Ino, all the fairytales she’d been read as a child – what was the most common explanation? Ah, right –

“Heartache, my dear sir.” She sighed dramatically, tilting her head to the side and looking up at the man through her eyelashes. “It can drive even the fairest of women to less than honourable deeds.”

She stifled a laugh at what Genma would say if he heard her talking like that, then focused on her target, the thought of Genma making her more than a little homesick.

“I would banish whoever caused you such grief to the very ends of the earth!” the brunet promised, his smile never falling, even as he bent down again to murmur in her ear. “However, if you forgive me for being crass, how would you like to commit some of those… ‘less than honourable deeds’ that you speak of… with me?”

This time, Sakura didn’t have to fake her gasp, and she instinctively moved away from the man, her hand coming up to cover her mouth while her mind was working in overtime. _The Academy didn’t cover this!!_

“I-I can’t stay here much longer!” she hastened to reply, waving her hands in front of herself. Then, noting that the noble was still far more amused than discouraged, she made herself calm down and add, “Although… later tonight, or perhaps tomorrow, if you’re still willing?” she suggested, smiling shyly.

The hand on her waist trailed up her back and settled up her shoulders, and Sakura didn’t quite manage to squash the shiver that the action caused. “I would be honoured. I’m staying in the inn, room 301. I’ll be waiting.” And with that, he turned on his heel and melted back into the crowd, sending her one last, secretive wink, and then he was gone.

Sakura sat on the barstool for a few seconds longer, unable to fully believe what had just transpired. After a few minutes so as not to seem suspicious, she got up on shaky legs and left the bar, heading to the inn. The clerk seemed terrified when she mentioned Nishinoya Ichirou and hastily directed her to room 502, and she had just enough presence of mind left to thank him before she made her way up the stairs.

When she walked in the door, she did a slight double-take – the room had three beds, two of which were occupied, but it was the people who were occupying them that made the rosette freeze. It was only the chakra signatures she had memorised over the last week that convinced her she was in the right room.

“Done already?” Fox – she reckoned it had to be Fox – asked, peering at her over the pages of a fantasy novel. The kunoichi was gorgeous, there was no other way to say it – her hair was a bright purple and now cascaded down her back and over her torso all the way to her waist, and her face was like a porcelain doll’s. Taicho, on the other hand, could have very easily given Ibiki a run for his money in the ‘terrifying’ department – broad-shouldered, tanned and with every inch of his face and head covered in scar tissue, Sakura reasoned his voice matched his appearance very well.

“I-yeah.” She replied at last, barely registering Fox’s question.

“You don’t sound convinced. Didn’t learn much?” Boar shot back, not looking up from where he was sharpening his kunai.

“No, no, I did.” She wandered over to the last free bed, finally dropping the henge she’d kept up all day, feeling her body immediately relax when she saw pink reflected back at her in the window. “I know where he’s staying. He’s expecting me tonight.” She added as an afterthought, not noticing how the room fell silent at her words.

“Not this me!” she hastened to reassure them when she saw their eyes fixed on her, in equal parts worried, furious and demanding. “He propositioned me in the bar! He’s expecting a harmless civilian bed partner, not a Leaf chunin sent to kill him!”

There was a moment’s silence, and then Boar, in the most human action she’d seen from him thus far, snorted. “It actually worked. This is almost better than when Hound used to go undercover.”

Fox’s eyes widened. “You worked with Hound-senpai, taicho?” she asked, a touch of what Sakura carefully pegged as hero-worship in her voice.

“I trained him up when he joined. The Fourth’s death hit him hard, he was fragile but malleable – it didn’t take long for him to rise to Captain. I think the only one who beat him was Weasel, and even that was by a pathetic margin.” Boar divulged, and Sakura thought that that had to be the most she’d heard the man speak since they’d left Konoha.

The conversation stalled almost immediately after taicho’s confession, and Sakura inwardly wondered what had caused it. She made a mental note to ask Genma about ‘Hound’ and ‘Weasel’ when she got back – he’d been in the Corps a while, he had to know.

“Right, Haruno – you know what you’re doing?” Sakura jumped at the sudden address, then nodded. “Good. Then get some shut-eye now, ‘cause we’re leaving as soon as you’re done.”

* * *

Killing the noble was a lot easier than all the information gathering she had to do beforehand and, frankly, she felt quite silly for even having bothered in hindsight. All she needed was a Chameleon genjutsu and she slipped through the open window in the middle of the night, kunai drawn. Her target was asleep, and his face looked even more youthful in the moonlight. He twitched when her foot touched the ground and she froze, absently wondering if the rumour of him having had some shinobi training had any weight to it, but when he didn’t wake, she merely gripped her kunai tighter and stepped closer. Closing her eyes for a moment and sending a quick prayer for forgiveness to whoever was listening, Sakura grabbed a handful of brown hair with her right hand, and with her left slashed her kunai across the man’s throat. She didn’t quite manage to dodge the arterial spray, and only stopped cutting when her knife met the hard bone of his spine.

The whole execution only lasted a few seconds, and his eyes didn’t open even once.

Swallowing down bile, Sakura wiped her bloodied kunai on the bedsheets and shoved it back in her pouch, then slipped back out through the open window. She ran blindly till she was well past the village gates, then, once securely in the forests and away from the carnage she’d left behind, she fell to her knees and vomited. The taste of bile made her eyes tear up.

That was how her teammates found her, sitting a few meters away from the contents of her stomach, her back propped up against a tree, her head between her knees.

“We were meant to meet up in the room.” Boar reproached her, and Sakura sighed, raising her head to look at him.

“Hai, taicho.” she murmured. “It won’t happen again.”

Wordlessly, Fox tossed her her pack, and Sakura shed her bloodied turtleneck, swapping it out for a long-sleeved navy tshirt which she slipped on, followed by her chunin vest and travelling cloak.

Then they were off.

The third target was a breeze – he was travelling with a group, but he split off from them when Sakura’s genjutsu made him see a shape in the trees that had been ‘following’ him. The moment he was far enough away from the others from his group, she threw her senbon, aiming for the same spots as Zabuza’s apprentice had used and Genma later drilled into her, and, when the man was down, she jumped down and stabbed her kunai through his heart, _just to be sure._

She let Fox frisk the body while she wondered why her stomach wasn’t protesting this time. Was it just the blood that made her puke? Was it the adrenaline? Was it simply the gore that came from slitting a throat that made her stomach roil? She didn’t know and left that for later to puzzle over – their mission had led them all the way from Hot Water to the outskirts of the Hidden Frost Village, and now all that was left was one at the border of Kumo and one in the ruins of Kagero Village.

They didn’t reach their destination – they passed by a group walking down one of the main roads leading away from Kumo, the one frequented by civilian merchants and shinobi assigned guard missions, and it was Fox who spotted their target in the front row. Sakura stayed in the trees, Boar and Fox like silent shadows behind her, and she tried to figure out how to best approach this. She wondered whether the same trick she had used last time would work, then she noticed that some of the people in the procession were carrying weapons, and others bore the Kumogakure headband.

_Damn it._

Just a ‘diversion’ wouldn’t work then. She had to come up with a proper plan. Trusting Boar and Fox not to follow, she ran in the direction the group was travelling, checking the road as she went. About a mile along, the road diverged into two paths, and Sakura knew that this would be where she would spring her ambush. She hurried back, then settled at a distance where she had a perfect view of everyone in the procession, even if she had to shift every few minutes to catch up with the group.

 _Time to live up to my title as a self-proclaimed ‘paper ninja’._ She thought wryly, then concentrated on each of the people in the procession, committing everything to memory; their appearance, clothing, height, gait, stride length, hair colour – everything she could, she memorised. She was lucky that they travelled in silence; trying to replicate the voices of eleven people in an illusion would’ve been far too difficult.

Then, she set to work, knowing that she only had about five minutes left till they reached the place where the path split. Sakura set about creating her genjutsu, first targeting the ten people her target was travelling with, as it was far easier; her aim was to make the big group believe her target was still travelling with them as they took the path leading right, while the man Sakura was ordered to kill – Watanabe Daichi – took the left path. The idea was that he would still be convinced that the other ten people were with him, and that was why Sakura had so meticulously tried to memorise each and every one of his companions; the chances of him turning around before she got to him were slim, but they were still something she had to account for.

Fox settled beside her, head tilted curiously while Sakura worked, watching the seals the pinkette worked through thoughtfully, but as usual, she didn’t say anything. Two weeks since they left Konohagakure, and Sakura was pretty certain that when Genma told her ‘hardly anyone speaks on these missions anyway’ he wasn’t exaggerating.

And then, she was done, and all that was left was waiting to see whether her trick would work.

“Are you done biding your time?” Boar’s gruff voice called out from behind them, but Sakura just raised her hand, not even glancing back, and pointed at the road – her target had reached the intersection. The three of them watched with baited breath – or at least, Sakura did – as the group approached the diverging paths and then, like clockwork, Daichi went down the left one, while the other ten went down the right one, and nobody seemed to be the wiser.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Boar murmured, then sighed. “Off you go, Haruno.”

And she did. Somehow, the fourth time around, she didn’t even hesitate, just snuck up on the man while he was still under the effects of the illusion and slit his throat, grateful she was behind him and managed to avoid the arterial spray. When she was done, she once again left the less than pleasant part of frisking the corpse for information and personal effects to Fox, while she herself stepped back to where Boar-taicho was waiting.

After a few seconds, her Captain broke the silence. “What did you do?”

So Sakura explained, and when she was done, she got a nod and a quietly impressed; “Impressive comprehension speed. Good job.” Which made her whip her head up to stare at Boar in disbelief, ignoring the way her neck ached at the action.

 _He… praised me?_ That seemed almost as impossible as Genma cutting his hair, or Anko swearing off dango.

It was towards the end of the third week of the mission, while she was about to deal with the last target that things went south. Sakura had never been so far north, and she was not enjoying the freezing temperatures and near-constant sleet and rain. Her cloak was permanently soaked through, and even with the frequent breaks and chakra-assisted fires Boar allowed, she was shivering the whole time while they travelled. It didn’t help that the last target was a Konoha missing-nin, so she really had to be careful this time.

It was a combination of the weather, stress, and lack of sleep that made her slip on the mud just as she was getting ready to jump on the nin and slit his throat.

But her muttered curse and sudden jerk to keep her balance were enough for her target to figure out the genjutsu and break it, turning around immediately afterwards and slashing a long, burning line down her left cheek, narrowly missing her eye. Sakura swore and jumped away to create distance, but he didn’t let her get too far and bore down on her with his kunai, forcing her to dodge and wrestle her daito out of its sheath. Their weapons slid against each other, the constant rain preventing friction, and Sakura was grateful for her blade’s longer reach and she managed to force him on the defensive this time, insofar as to make him jump away as she had done a few seconds previous.

She should’ve known letting him create distance wouldn’t end well.

A giant fireball was soon directed her way, and the sleet on the ground resulted in her losing traction in the most important moment – she didn’t manage to fully escape the roaring ball of flame, her right pants’ leg and the bandages around her ankle catching on fire.

Sakura hissed and shoved her leg into the nearest puddle, leaning against a nearby trunk and gritting her teeth as the freezing water soothed the burnt skin of her ankle and calve, then faced her opponent. He was flashing through more seals, and it was only the fact that the last seal she saw him make was a Tiger seal that clued her in to _get the hell out of dodge._ Not two seconds later, a dozen or so fire projectiles impacted the tree she’d been leaning against, obliterating it.

But there was one good thing that came out of her assailant using Fire Release in a cold and wet environment – everywhere she looked, there was steam and mist.

And Sakura knew exactly what to do with mist.

Flicking through the three seals with practiced ease, she spread her chakra among the water particles in the air, then increased its concentration, masking her own chakra in the process. The mist in the air turned from translucent to nearly opaque, the air a milky white that masked shadows and made it difficult to see her own fingers when she stretched her hand out.

But Sakura knew what to do. Mindful of the amount of chakra she had left, she disappeared underground, shivering when the earth surrounding her was far colder and harder than she was used to, then extended her senses. She found her opponent a mere few feet away from where she left him, his chakra buzzing uncertainly. It seemed like he wasn’t quite certain what to do now that he couldn’t see nor sense her. But Sakura had no such inhibitions. She moved so she was directly under her target, then, in one swift move with chakra surrounding both of her hands, she forced her hands through the hard earth, latched onto her opponent’s ankles and _yanked._

She clambered out when it was just his head that stuck out, then, not wasting a moment, pulled back her chakra from the mist, found her discarded daito on the ground, and made one decisive swipe at the man’s neck with her blade, unconsciously circulating chakra through her arm in her panic.

Her weapon cut through his neck like butter, not hesitating even when it met his spine.

A second later, his head lolled to the side exposing muscles and bone and a slowly-gushing artery which was turning the ground around them scarlet.

Sakura reeled off to the side and propped herself up on a tree, her stomach heaving, but all she managed to throw up was bile. She suddenly realised she hadn’t eaten since the morning of the day before.

“Kid, easy.” A hand landed on her shoulder and Sakura looked up into the familiar mask of Boar, distantly realising that it was the first time he had addressed her as anything other than ‘Haruno’. She tried for a wobbly smile, and gratefully accepted the protein bar when it was offered. “You’re done. We can stop for the night in a nearby inn, then leave first thing in the morning for Konoha.”

Sakura had never heard a better proposition.

* * *

 When they arrived in Konoha five days later, Sakura thanked her guards, handed in the mission report to Boar, then, after double-checking that she definitely _could,_ made a beeline for her house.

She was in need of a bath and about a week of lying in bed doing nothing to recover from this mission. But when she walked into the hallway and glanced into the living room, she found Genma and another… person – all she could see was a mane of black hair and their back, hardly features which she could use to tell the gender – whose face was buried in the tokujo’s neck.

Sakura felt herself blush, her skin feeling hot, especially when Genma noticed her standing in the doorway and paled considerably, glancing warily between her and his… partner?

But Sakura just grinned and waved, pushing her embarrassment to the back of her mind as she shook her head and signed ‘talk later’ in the standard ANBU code, or what little of it she had picked up over the last month, then turned on her heel to leave the room.

She promptly froze when she heard Genma gasp and felt the temperature in the room drop by a good few degrees. There was a scuffle in the living room as Genma pushed – what she now knew to be a _man_ – off of him.

 _Fuck._ She thought bleakly when she heard the brunet mutter a very angry ‘out. We’ll talk later’, seemingly not caring much for his partner if he didn’t mind the other glaring at him and flipping him off before he stormed out of the house.

_Fuck. I wasn’t supposed to know that. Fuck. I didn’t know the code when I left. FUCK!_

But Genma was calm. Scarily so. He stood up from the sofa, let his hair down from the ponytail it was in to cover his neck, signature bandana missing, and _smiled._

Smiled a smile faker than Kakashi’s at his worst.

“Do you want to tell me about this latest mission of yours?” he asked quietly, his voice soft and misleadingly polite. “Or shall I make a trip to ANBU HQ and start asking around till someone explains to me how you learnt the sign language I _most definitely_ didn’t teach you?”

Sakura gulped. She’d known Genma could be scary. She just never had it directed her way before and, frankly, it was starting to scare her.

“D-Do you promise y-you won’t get mad?” she asked, stuttering slightly.

Then, Genma did a doubletake, and the room suddenly grew a lot warmer, the tense atmosphere gone. Genma sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then smiled ruefully. “I’m not mad, just worried. Sorry for freaking you out, it’s just- there was a reason why I never taught you that code. I assumed the worst when you used it. So,” he hedged, smiling more openly now and gesturing to the sofa. “if you feel up to it, would you mind telling me about the last month?”

Sakura briefly entertained the idea of running away, then thought better of it and smiled, dropping her mission pack on the floor and letting her cloak pool at her feet while she threw her flak jacket in the corner by the door. “Sure. If you don’t mind the fact that I haven’t showered in three days.” She added teasingly.

Genma merely laughed and fell on the sofa in a graceless heap, but obligingly wrapped his arm around the rosette’s shoulders and let her lean against him when she nudged him.

Relaxing for the first time in a month, Sakura began her tale.

(and if Genma hugged her extra tight before she finally got up to shower and go to sleep, well. Neither of them commented on it.)

* * *

“So… she passed?”

“She did.”

“With flying colours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Damn.” Tsunade sighed, eyes trailing over the mission report she’d been handed. “That’s… not what I expected.” She said at last. “Seems like every mission I throw at her expecting her to fail, she completes. It’s the seemingly easy ones that prove problematic. Anyway, what about her mental state?”

“Appears stable.” Yugao offered, her mask pinned to her belt. “Though she has a weak stomach when it comes to blood. Vomited twice.”

Tsunade waved her off. “Yamanaka can help her work through that. What about technique?”

“Rudimentary, but effective.” Jirou reported, his Boar mask sticking out of the pocket of his Captain’s cloak. “Seems to mimic the Kirigakure Silent Kill technique.”

The Godaime frowned, reading through the report again. “ _Advanced_ genjutsu, basic Earth Release, basic bukijutsu, and a Water Release _exclusive_ to Kirigakure shinobi all in one mission? She has enough for Tokubetsu Jounin even now, all she needs is to complete her mission requirement.”

“She’s a good strategist.” Yugao added after a moment, thinking back to what she’d observed. “She prefers staying out of sight until the last moment, and plans accordingly. It’s… surprisingly effective.”

Tsunade snorted. “Yes, I had both Nara and Yamanaka grouch to me that she’s being wasted in T&I and would do better in Tactical, but what can I do?” then, she sobered. “What I want to know is whether you would recommend her as a part-time ANBU assassin?”

Yugao nodded slowly, but Jirou thought it over. “When she gets over her reaction to gore, yes. She listens to orders, seems to know the hierarchy, and we haven’t had to ‘take it easy’ with her like with some of the other candidates. It’ll be… taxing, to adjust to ANBU, both physically and mentally, but I have faith.”

Yugao grinned lopsidedly. “That has got to be the nicest thing I’ve heard you say all year, taicho.” she joked, getting a half-hearted glare.

“Her generation’s lily-livered, the lot of them. She’s got grit and skill. I want to exploit that.” He shrugged, as if speaking of a thirteen year old girl like a tool and simultaneously insulting most Clan heirs was a normal expression.

Tsunade sighed and sealed the report, putting it aside. “We’ll see.”

* * *

Four days after Sakura got back from her mission, she made her way over to the cemetery, a bouquet of flowers in hand and a slightly melancholy expression on her face. She found her parents and sighed, squatting down to sit on her haunches and laying the flowers down between their graves, then promptly flopped down on her butt, wrapping her arms around her knees.

“Morning, hahaue, chichiue.” She murmured, smiling wryly. “Inoichi-san said talking might help me sort some things out, so… here I am.” Sakura picked at the grass by her feet, glancing up at the sky. “Somehow, I didn’t really notice until Genma pointed it out to me, but a year passed since I graduated. I wonder… Genma joked that it’s a bit masochistic of me, but I wonder whether you might’ve grown to be proud of me… had you, y’know, not-” she paused, clearing her throat. “had Orochimaru not happened.”

Sakura snorted and hung her head. “God, why am I doing this again?” she mumbled to herself. “It’s not like you can _hear._ ” But she picked her head up and fixed her gaze on the flowers. “I’m happy with what I’m doing, would you believe that? I actually know what I want out of life, I know what I want to achieve, I’m not just pursuing being a kunoichi because of Ino or because I wanted to impress Sasuke, but because I can actually _do_ something now. I’m happy.” Slowly, she felt a smile grow on her face. “It’s surreal. I know that you tried everything in your power to discourage me from becoming a shinobi, but I’m really, really glad I stuck by it. I’ve met some amazing people thanks to it and I’ve achieved things I didn’t think I ever could.”

Then, she paused, considering – it wasn’t as if all that she’d struggled with after Tamaki was suddenly _gone_ or that she magically forgot she’d spent the past month running around the countries and killing people, but she felt… _lighter._

“Huh,” she mused, glancing at the graves of her parents with a small smile. “maybe Inoichi-san was onto something.”

And then, she felt a familiar signature drawing near and twisted her head to peer over her shoulder.

Genma sauntered over, a small smile on his face even as the look in his eyes was worried when he looked at her. “Everything alright?” he asked, stretching out a hand to help her up.

Sakura smiled back, sending one last look at her parents’ graves and accepted the hand, letting Genma pull her to her feet. “Never better.”

The brunet sent her a curious look, but eventually shook his head and his smile turned into a grin as he wrapped his arm around Sakura’s shoulders and pulled her into his side. “Feel up to getting dango with me?”

Her reaction must’ve been as eager as she felt as Genma laughed and ruffled her hair, ignoring her indignant squawk. Looking up, Sakura decided she didn’t even mind: she was happy.

* * *

A week after she nearly made Genma go bankrupt buying her dessert, Sakura got called into the Godaime’s office, surprised to see Shikamaru already there. Upon seeing her, the Nara sent her a small wave and the corner of his lips twisted upwards, then they both turned their attention back to the Hokage.

“Everything alright, Hokage-sama?” Sakura asked worriedly, “Has the situation in Kiri worsened? Has Mei-sama been impeached? Were they attacked? Were _we_ attacked?” she shot off question after question, her mind working through thousand different scenarios why her and Shikamaru could’ve been called in, _together._

“Breathe, Haruno.” Tsunade ordered, though she was smiling. “I’m glad you care so much, but I assure you, the situation in Kiri is just fine, and Mei is still reigning strong. Besides, if something was wrong, I’m sure your swordboy would’ve told you.” Then she winked, _winked_ of all things, and Sakura heard Shikamaru snort even as her cheeks grew red.

“…Oh.” She choked out at last, prompting another snort from the Hokage.

“ _However,_ ” Tsunade continued, and Sakura felt unease twisting in her gut again. “I do have a mission for the two of you.” The blonde picked up a letter that had previously laid on her desk, waving it around. Sakura thought she saw an hourglass in the corner of the page, but that must’ve been her eyes playing tricks on her – after all, Suna wouldn’t-!

“I see that big brain of yours working, Sakura, and I’m pretty sure you know what I’m going to say. This,” she waved the letter around again, ignoring the microtear she was creating in the paper, “is a formal letter from Sunagakure’s interim Kazekage, requesting an audience with Konoha’s best diplomats in order to hash out a treaty and bridge the gap between our nations.”

The office was quiet enough Sakura was pretty sure she could’ve heard a pin drop.

Shikamaru was the first to break the silence. “They’re kidding, right? It has been, what, half a year? Since they conspired with Orochimaru?”

“Eight months.” Sakura corrected absently, getting a half-hearted glare in return.

“My point is,” Shikamaru continued, “that Mist was problematic because a treaty with them had never been attempted before. _And_ they had never helped out in the Wars. But Suna had been an ally, and then chose to turn on us when the treaty wasn’t being enforced anymore. That won’t go down well with the public, Tsunade-sama.”

Sakura glanced at Shikamaru, surprised to see him talk so heatedly about something, but she nodded to show she agreed with what he was saying.

Tsunade sighed. “I know that. I also know that we don’t _really_ need their allegiance, or at least they need ours more than we need theirs, but they are the best producers of poisons in all the shinobi nations, and our medics are suffering from not having enough to practise on. Not to mention Suna is a lot more convenient for our merchants than Kiri.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, suddenly weary. “Listen, I don’t need you to work miracles and I don’t expect you to put up with anti-Konoha bullshit that some of the Elders may spring on you. I just want you to see whether you could maybe do that magic trick that you pulled off in Kiri again and get us a treaty that is mutually beneficial? If you feel that it’s a hopeless cause, you have my full permission to turn on your heels and come back, maybe even spit on an Elder or two. What do you think?”

Sakura exchanged a curious glance with Shikamaru – on one hand, the idea of a treaty with a nation which had betrayed them made her uncomfortable, and she could see the same sentiment reflected in the brunet’s eyes. On the other… allies were good. And she’d never been to Suna before, so…

She sighed, “I’m up for it if you are.” She told Shikamaru, shrugging. “At least the weather might be nicer.” She teased.

Shikamaru snorted and slouched even further, if at all possible. “Impossible woman.” He grumbled, but shrugged. “Eh, might as well. We accept, Tsunade-sama.”

Tsunade sat up and clapped her hands together, a very Machiavellian grin appearing on her face. “Great! You leave tomorrow!”

Sakura shot another look at her mission partner, this time wary. Tsunade looked _far_ too happy.

Shikamaru grinned wryly. ‘ _We’re so screwed.’_ He mouthed, and Sakura couldn’t help but agree.

_Well, Suna, here we come!_


	15. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your lovely comments for the last chapter! unfortunately - or fortunately, depending on how you want to look at things - this chapter had to be split in half or it would've added up to over 25k+ words :D
> 
> also, this story is now available in Vietnamese!!
> 
> more than that, major shoutout to two amazing people - @rosedraquia on tumblr and Ivy on AO3 for being absolutely amazing with their comments and support and just ace humans in general! <333

“Suna? So soon?” Genma asked while leaning against the doorframe as Sakura packed. “You only just got back from that other month-long mission.” Sakura paused, and when she listened a bit closer, there was an undeniable tinge of worry in the tokujo’s voice.

Sighing fondly, the rosette sealed the last few kunai into her scroll and shoved it in her backpack, then turned towards Genma with a smile. “It’s just a diplomatic mission, don’t worry so much.” When the brunet still didn’t look convinced, she walked over and hugged him – Sakura suspected she needed the physical reassurance more than him, but it was nice nevertheless when his arms wound around her back with nary a thought. “It’ll be in-and-out: harass some Elders, present the treaty, leave. No longer than a month. Tsunade-sama isn’t expecting the same miracle as in Kiri, but she is obligated to respond to the interim Kazekage’s request; Shikamaru and I are the best choice.” She mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

Genma hummed and lightly patted her head before withdrawing. “Shall I look it over?” he gestured to her pack and Sakura, seeing the change of subject as what it was, agreed. As Genma ambled over to sit on her bed, he laughed suddenly, picking up a hot-pink stuffed dinosaur from her pillow.

“You’re leaving him behind?” he teased, shaking the toy in a mockery of a dance. “Kotetsu will be heartbroken.”

Sakura mock-scowled, but she couldn’t help the grin that pulled at her lips. The dinosaur was a gag gift from Kotetsu, given shortly after the rosette started seeing Inoichi for therapy, with a teasing ‘Mr. Obnoxiously Pink for our favourite obnoxiously pink chunin!’. But even though at the time Sakura had scowled and smacked the man with the very toy he gave her, she kept it. Her old toys had all perished when her house had been levelled during the Invasion, so it was nostalgia more than anything and a desire to cling to the last remnants of her childhood with her parents that made her keep it and sleep with it since. Nonetheless, it was a fact which she would rather shave all her hair off for than admit to the insufferable raven.

“He’s probably convinced I burned it to ashes the second I got it, so no, he won’t be.” She snarked eventually when the silence seemed to stretch on for too long and got a snort in return. The atmosphere in the room, however, was considerably lighter so she counted it a success.

From there, the conversation drifted to slightly more serious topics, from desert-appropriate clothing, Suna’s socio-economic situation, to the pros and cons of foreign foods and the weather. Just before she settled in for bed, Sakura penned a quick letter to _Chōjūrō_ , letting the bluenette know where she was going to be for the next few weeks, and Genma graciously agreed to send it off in the morning.

(and if the next day, Genma hugged her a bit tighter than usual when she was leaving to meet Shikamaru, then, well. Neither of them commented on it and Sakura simply made sure to squeeze just as tight in return.)

* * *

 

Shikamaru was already at the gates when Sakura arrived, and she waved in recognition before ambling over to the gate guards to submit their mission scroll and papers. She was slightly disappointed when the guards weren’t anyone she recognised, but soon enough, they were off, easing in to the three-day trek for Suna. They kept a steady pace, nowhere near the speed at which Sakura had had to run at with Fox and Boar-taicho, but fast enough that by nightfall they were right by the border between the Land of Fire and Land of Rivers. Just for the extra security, they camped on the Fire side of the border, setting up their tents and getting a small fire going for food and extra light.

Eventually, when the hastily-hunted dinner was eaten and they were both sated but unwilling to go to sleep just yet, Sakura proposed a game of shogi, having spied Shikamaru’s signature travel kit in his bag. They had chatted during the journey, catching up on what happed during the three months since they’d last seen each other at Inoichi’s dinner. Which was nice and all, but jumping through trees and keeping half a mind on the direction they were heading in left little room for deep conversation.

As such, Sakura wasn’t surprised when, after nudging his rook into place, Shikamaru asked, “So how is your jounin promotion going?” and simply judging by his tone, it would have seemed that the Nara was uninterested in the topic of discussion, but Sakura saw the way his eyes quickly flickered up to meet hers briefly before they fell back to the board, the glint in them half worried, half genuinely curious.

So she smiled. “It’s slow-going, but I have hope. The requirement for even being nominated for the exams is five A-Ranks, 15 B-Ranks, 25 C-Ranks and over 70 D-Ranks. I’m all set on the D-Ranks front, and counting this mission I’ll only have one more A-Rank left, but I still need 14 B-Ranks and 12 C-Ranks. It’s… doable, but it’ll take time. Though now that I’m not full-time at T&I it should be easier to get missions out of the Village.”

Shikamaru snorted. “I still can’t believe you did _ten times_ as many D-Ranks as I did. And the ones Asuma assigned us were _hell._ ” He grouched, and Sakura found it funny how it was the D-Ranks that he found odd rather than the four A-Ranks.

Sakura grinned and shrugged, moving forward a pawn. “I think that was Tsunade-sama’s intention – to make it hell.” She laughed, scowling when Shikamaru used her moment of inattention to swipe her promoted bishop. “Oi! That was mean!”

The Nara just smirked, casually promoting his pawn. “Should’ve been paying more attention to the game, woman.” He taunted, making Sakura’s scowl deepen. Abandoning her hastily-erected Mino castle, she sacrificed her promoted rook to snatch his bishop in return. Shikamaru just raised an eyebrow. “Are you counting on me not being able to predict you losing your temper?” and in a move that Sakura hadn’t even seen coming, he suddenly had a knight and a bishop around her king. “Because if so, then think again.”

Sakura took a glance at the board, then, temper rising, pushed it aside and pounced, tackling Shikamaru to the ground.

“Oof! Ow, woman, your elbow’s bony- get off- Sakura, c’mon, don’t- _ow!_ What are you- _get away from my hair!_ ”

* * *

 

Two days later, the duo finally neared the outer walls of Suna. The sun was unforgiveable, bright and hot and with not even a hint of a cloud in the sky, and Sakura was incredibly grateful she’d managed to convince Genma to go shopping with her and as a result her head as well as the bottom half of her face were now covered by a pale jade shemagh. She’d also swapped her standard uniform for a more appropriate outfit just before they crossed the border into the Land of Wind, and she now wore a loose white cotton tunic, beige linen pants and a cream overshirt that she left unbuttoned – Sakura was certain she would’ve _cried_ if she’d had to stick by her turtleneck and dark trousers. Or at least looked as miserable as Shikamaru did; the Nara had clearly not taken his mom’s nagging to heart and had merely replaced his usual short-sleeved Nara clan jacket with a long sleeved one. He’d been forced to ditch his chunin vest, and Sakura had taken pity on him and tore up one of her cotton shirts to give him something to cover his head and neck with. She also made sure to point out his lack of foresight out loud whenever the teen’s complaining stopped sounding funny and treaded into ‘annoying’ territory.

But, at last, there were the walls of the Village Hidden in the Sand, and Sakura easily located the gap between the cliffs that Genma had told her led to the actual Village Gates. After a fairly long trek – made longer still by the fact that Shikamaru was quite literally dragging his feet, revelling in the ‘first hint of shade in the last 48 hours, seriously, Sakura, how does any vegetation here even survive, I’m not surprised nobody bothers to invade Suna despite its crap military, this place is a natural _oven_ ’ but finally, the Village’s Gates came into view.

However, before they could so much as pull out their papers, a Suna shinobi stood before them, standing between them and the Gates with a kunai in each hand. “What’s your purpose here? Identify yourselves!” he barked, pointing the kunai threateningly.

Shikamaru sighed, exhaustion turning into irritation. “We _would’ve done so,_ shinobi-san, if you hadn’t jumped on us.” He snapped, pulling out his papers with a flourish atypical of a Nara. “We’re the diplomats from Konohagakure. Your Kazekage requested us.”

The ninja’s hostility was replaced by suspicion, and he took the proffered papers like they were an exploding tag. “Diplomats?” he repeated, eyeing first Shikamaru, then Sakura up and down. “But you’re just kids.” He snorted derisively.

Instead of responding verbally, Sakura reached beneath the neckline of her tunic and pulled out her Kirigakure forehead protector she’d thought to bring which was now tied around her neck, then tugged her shemagh up a little and let the sun glint off the Konohagakure insignia on the metal plate. “Yes, diplomats.” She replied coolly, her inborn politeness warring with her own exhaustion and annoyance at the situation. “Call your leader if you do not believe us.”

“There will be no need for that!” a new voice called out, and a short figure jumped from the cliff, landing solidly behind the gate guard. “My idiotic brother has gone soft in his own age – he did indeed request diplomats from the Leaf.”

Sakura, recognising just _who_ came to greet them from the multitude of Bingo Books, medical and historical texts she’d read over the years, dipped into a shallow bow. “Chiyo-sama. I take it Honourable Ebizo-sama is the interim Kazekage?”

Chiyo paused, then suddenly, she was right in front of Sakura, reaching up and grasping her fabric-covered chin, then tugging her down so she could stare the rosette in the eyes. “You’re sharp, girlie. But also suspicious!” And then there was a knife pressing to Sakura’s throat, far quicker than she would’ve expected from such an old woman, and far too quick for her to dodge. “My brother didn’t sign his name on the letter to Tsunade-hime, so you must have an informant! Spill!”

And then, instead of increasing, the pressure eased, and when Sakura looked down, she saw a pooled shadow by Chiyo’s feet, the other end connected to Shikamaru. “I’d appreciate it if you refrained from threatening my teammate, Chiyo-sama.” The Nara intoned smoothly, yet not breaking off his shadow. Sakura reasoned that the giant cliffs behind them were probably playing to the Nara’s advantage, as it was literally the only place where his shadow wasn’t completely useless.

“And to answer your question,” Sakura added in a murmur, “I happen to enjoy history and medical books. You were quite infamous in both.”

“Am!” Chiyo roared suddenly, moving as if to rush the rosette but was ultimately restrained by Shikamaru’s shadow. “I _am_ famous! Retired doesn’t mean _useless,_ girlie!”

Sakura exchanged a disbelieving glance with Shikamaru. From their experience, that was _precisely_ what ‘retired’ meant in the ninja world – although few lived long enough to earn that title. Still, Sakura had grown used to humouring inflated egos.

“My mistake, Chiyo-sama. Is there anything else you need?” the pinkette replied, and Shikamaru finally dropped his Shadow Possession.

“Are their papers legitimate?” Chiyo barked at the gate guard, who nodded hastily, then, once the Elder had turned away from him, glared at the two Konoha chunin. “Then you shall follow me, and I will lead you to my brother.”

Sharing one more glance and a shrug, Sakura fell into step with Shikamaru and the two of them followed the eccentric Elder through the main streets of Sunagakure. It was… it wasn’t _great_ was putting it mildly. While Kirigakure had had sad, hopeless people, a struggling economy and a depleted military, the atmosphere in Suna was somehow _worse._ The Village just seemed to stagnate. The people were wandering around aimlessly, most of the shops were closed, and only about a tenth of the population was visibly shinobi.

Sakura nudged Shikamaru with her elbow and jerked her chin at the crowd around them. “Kiri seems almost cheerful in comparison.” She murmured out of the corner of her mouth, getting a slight grin in return. Then, after about ten minutes’ walk, the straight road they’d been on before ended in a round, sandy-coloured building like most of the others they had walked past. Only this one was about three times bigger and with a kanji for ‘Wind’ painted on the side of the wall.

“Any bets about where we’re going?” Shikamaru muttered dryly, and Sakura couldn’t quite keep in the snort that escaped her.

“Speak up children!” Chiyo snapped from the front of their little procession, turning around to shoot them a glare. “How do I know you’re not scheming behind my back?”

“I don’t know, maybe the fact that you’re still alive?” Sakura snarked quietly, the heat and the sweat she could feel dripping down her back making her ten times more aggressive than usual. Shikamaru choked, then bent over to get his breath back while he laughed.

“Stop that! Do you want me to leave you here? Or send you to the basements for interrogation? I’m still not convinced you’re not spies!” Chiyo growled, and for an old lady, the woman sure had a loud voice. 

Shikamaru quietened immediately, but Sakura saw red. “Threatening foreign diplomats here on the invitation of _your Kazekage_ is not in any way helping Sunagakure’s case, Chiyo-sama. There are already enough sceptics about this treaty as is – any hostile act against us carried out by your Village can trigger a war. And you and I both know Suna would not come out on top if it were to come to that, not with two superior Villages against yours.” The rosette replied coldly, making sure to make her voice harsh and cutting.

It must’ve worked, because the woman stopped in her tracks and turned around to face them. Shikamaru tensed, but Sakura merely met the woman’s eyes; compared to Orochimaru, she was nothing. Compared to _Ibiki,_ she was nothing.

_I am not helpless. Not anymore. If she attacks, I am confident we can get out. I am not helpless!_

But then, Chiyo threw her head back and _cackled._

“Oh, to be young and naïve again!” she crowed, her small stature shaking with the force of her laughter. “How self-important you must feel, to think your disappearance, a mere couple of _genin_ , could force a _war_. I can’t wait until you use those arguments on our Council!”

Shikamaru, despite the tenseness of his usually relaxed posture and the pallor of his skin, spoke first, and his voice was its usual detached drawl. “Mah, we’re chunin, not genin. And perhaps that isn’t too much, seeing as Suna gave up search of its own _Kage,_ but Konoha has different standards. Especially since I am the heir to one of the noble Clans, and Sakura and I are both Ambassadors to Kirigakure. So perhaps not a war, no, but you would lose the only two allies who might even give you a chance.”

Sakura stared at the Nara with a mix of surprise and pride in her eyes – last time, in Kiri, it would’ve been her who butted heads with the Elders, while Shikamaru did damage control. But this time, it seemed that he was less willing to remain on the sidelines of the verbal battles, and for some inexplicable reason, Sakura couldn’t quite fight off the smile that pulled at her lips.

Chiyo scrutinised them for a long moment, then pushed open one of the doors leading to the round building with the kanji for ‘Wind’. “We’re here.” She said instead, then walked into the dark hall, Sakura and Shikamaru having little choice but to follow.

To their surprise, the interior of the Kazekage building was rather cool and dark, and the Kazekage’s office was almost chilly in comparison to the desert outside.

The man sitting at the desk was _old._ There was no other word for it, though Sakura struggled to keep herself from laughing at the expression on Shikamaru’s face – the Kage’s eyebrows were longer than Sakura’s _bangs,_ and they left his eyes strangely shadowed.

“Leaf shinobi,” the man intoned, his voice drier than the desert outside and dripping with poorly-hidden disdain. “welcome to Sunagakure.”

Nodding, Sakura and Shikamaru dipped into a bow, and the brunet sent her a meaningful glance that meant she should take care of the pleasantries. Sakura almost rolled her eyes in response.

“Kazekage-sama,” she greeted politely, “thank you for the welcome. I am Haruno Sakura and my partner is Nara Shikamaru – Tsunade-sama sent us as the diplomatic envoys.”

Ebizo’s eyes seemed to settle on her for a minute, then he let out a world-weary sigh. “Although I am loathe to seek help from any country, it is my duty as Kazekage to ensure my successor takes over a prospering Village. We will begin negotiations tomorrow, with the Council of Elders. For now, go rest.”

Sakura nodded, ignoring the dig at his unwillingness of foreign help, but then her curiosity got the better of her. “Have you decided on a successor, Kazekage-sama?”

Chiyo turned her suspicious eyes on her, making Sakura jump. “What business is it of yours, girlie? It’s my brother and the Council you’ll be doing business with.” She snapped, and Sakura took an involuntary step back at the venom in her voice.

She nodded, feeling surprisingly cowed and was about to apologise, but Shikamaru gripped her wrist, and when she glanced at him, there was an odd look in his eyes. It looked like… indignation? anger? Something that had no right to be present in a _Nara’s_ eyes, whose tempers were renowned as almost _saintly_.

“That hostility was unnecessary.” He replied, and though his tone was perfectly polite, his voice was cold. “Sakura’s interest is perfectly reasonable – in fact, as I assume the successor will be one of the Sand Siblings, simply by virtue of being the late Kazekage’s children, it is even in your favour. Perhaps you’re unaware, but the three of them played a large role in the Invasion. Would it not therefore be in your best interest for Sakura and I to spread good words about them once we return, to reduce some of the animosity held by our people for their role in the destruction of our Village, or would you rather leave a _teenager_ to bear the weight of a foreign Village’s scorn when something could’ve been done to lessen it?”

Sakura was surprised. Pleasantly so, because she hadn’t expected him to jump to her defence, but she was also exasperated. With herself, mainly, because she forgot that the teen beside her, despite his oftentimes _lacking_ motivation, was in fact a genius. She had forgotten that the Sand trio were the children of a Kage when she asked her question, but the Nara hadn’t, and, judging by Chiyo’s scowl, she wasn’t aware he had known in the first place.

The Kazekage, despite the unjust treatment of the diplomats he himself had requested, did not rebuke his sister or apologise on her behalf, which rankled with Sakura, but she stayed silent.

“Indeed,” Ebizo commented, folding his gnarled hands on the desk before him, “it will be one of the Siblings who succeeds me. But they are not so helpless as to need that kind of favour with your Village.” And although his tone didn’t change, there was a slight edge to the way he said ‘your Village’. Like it was somehow _lesser._

Shikamaru frowned, but stayed silent, staring the Elder down. Eventually, they were dismissed, and led to their lodging for the duration of their stay in Suna.

Once the chunin charged with escorting them left, Sakura sighed. “Well, that couldn’t have gone worse if we’d _tried_.” She noted drily, collapsing on the sofa in the sparsely-decorated apartment.

She earned a snort for her effort as Shikamaru copied her, dropping his pack on the floor and flopping on the couch beside her, stretching his legs over her lap and fighting with the cloth wrapped around his head. Sakura’s nose wrinkled at the feet so close to her face, but when a poke proved insufficient, she simply slumped into the cushions, letting her neck crack with a satisfying sound.

“It’s only gonna get _worse_ from here.” Shikamaru informed her glumly, finally pulling off his makeshift shemagh and the tie holding his hair up in one swift move. “Not only is the Kazekage an old coot, but we’re going to be dealing with the Council of _Elders_. Which means _multiple_ old coots.” Sakura snorted at that summary, then groaned when she managed to shed her overcoat and felt the cool air of the apartment wash over her back.

“I miss Mei-sama.” She whined, fanning herself. “She fought the Kiri Elders for us.”

“Mmhm.” The brunet hummed, letting his eyes fall shut. “But Mei had just taken over a country ripped apart by a civil war. She knew the value of allies, and she was younger which made her less set in the ‘a successful Village must be autonomous’ mindset. Here, we have a bunch of people convinced in the superiority of their own land, despite the fact that it’s currently got the worst stats out of all the shinobi Villages. It’ll be difficult to get through to them. Even _Naruto_ would struggle.” He added bitingly at the end, and Sakura couldn’t stop the bark of amused laughter than escaped her.

“Have you been doing some extra reading, Shika?” she teased, the nickname leaving her lips almost without conscious though. “What is this I hear of ‘stats’ and the governing families of other Villages?”

Shikamaru snorted. “As if I’m about to be shown up for the second time.” He grumbled good-naturedly. “My mom literally buried me under historical texts, treaties, maps and all the other stuff in the Clan’s archives when I got back from Kiri. The fact that I’m the heir also wasn’t helping stop her nagging.” He sighed, then barely managed to duck the bundle of cloth the rosette threw at his face. “Hey!”

“I swear to god, if you’d spent half as much time studying as you do _whining_ , you would’ve beaten the Uchiha for Rookie of the Year.” Sakura snapped, lobbing another bundle at him when the first one missed. “And I wouldn’t have ‘shown you up’ in the first place!”

The brunet’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t ‘ _whine’_ , I express my dislike for needlessly expending effort.” He replied, affronted.

“So you _admit_ you’re lazy!”

“I admit to conserving energy when possible. There’s a _difference_.”

“No, there isn’t!”

“Yes, there _is_!”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, each unwilling to step down, then almost simultaneously burst out laughing, although Shikamaru’s was quickly contained to chuckles, Sakura couldn’t quite stop for a good minute.

It was a much needed burst of good humour before the month of hell that loomed before them.

* * *

 

They weren’t wrong. The previous day in the Kazekage’s office had _nothing_ on the Council of Elders.

The first sign that everything was going to go to hell was just after they walked in, and Sakura’s eyes scanned the room and fell across a very familiar face. Or, half a face. The other half was obscured by sheet hanging down from his turban. Then, Sakura’s eyes trailed to the wheelchair he was sitting in and the distinct lack of a hitai-ate. Genma’s words from what seemed like so long ago flashed through her mind; “ _He’ll be crippled and probably forced to retire from active service, but he’ll live._ ”

She had… forgotten. She forgot the wave of protectiveness and vicious anger that took over her when she saw the jounin about to swing at Genma back when the Invasion first started. Even now there was a small, mutinous part of her that whispered _serves him right_ when she saw the state of the man, but Sakura squashed that thought almost immediately. She had forgotten Suna’s medical system wasn’t even half as good as Konoha’s, especially now that Tsunade was back. And now a direct result of her actions she’d forgotten about were staring her in the face.

The jounin’s eyes – _Baki,_ she reminded herself forcefully, _his name is Baki –_ widened when they met hers, then narrowed as his mouth twisted into a sneer. Sakura quickly averted her gaze.

Then, once they sat down, it became clear that Chiyo and Ebizo weren’t alone in their sense of superiority, and any of the arguments Sakura or Shikamaru tried to present were cut off, brushed off, or completely talked over, the counterarguments being formed of events which took place before either of them had been born, not at all related with the current state of affairs. The status-quo went on for _hours_ , and while at the start Sakura saw some hope in Shikamaru’s gaze, by the time the sun started setting and they were _still_ being shouted over, he was coldly, quietly furious.  

She cast glances at the Sand Siblings throughout the day. All of them were sitting near Ebizo, on the other end of the oval table from Sakura and Shikamaru. There had been surprise in their gazes when her and the Nara had first walked in, as clearly nobody had told them just _who_ the Konoha diplomats would be, but none of them had spoken. Either they were there on a purely ‘observe but do not contribute’ basis, or they agreed with the views expressed by the Elders.

Sakura didn’t know which angered her more.

“Girl!” one of the Elders snapped, and Sakura’s gaze moved from the window to her face, lined and sallow and bearing an unsightly grimace. “Are you even listening?!” she accused, one gnarly finger pointed right between Sakura’s eyes.

The rosette took a deep breath. Then, she looked around the room, at the mix of angry, disgusted, or plain disinterested faces, at the quiet trio opposite, at Baki’s glare, at Ebizo’s expressionless face and at Chiyo’s smug smirk. She glanced down, at Shikamaru’s hands which were balled into fists under the table, and at the way his jaw was tensed and the look in his eyes was cold, but hurt, like he was in _pain._

Letting the breath she was holding out in a big sigh, she met the councilwoman’s gaze, making sure her own was as indifferent as Kakashi’s could sometimes be and her face equally impassive. “No.” she stated bluntly, getting a few sharp intakes of breath and something that sounded like a hastily-smothered snort from one of the Siblings. “Why should I?” she asked rhetorically, pushing back from the table and crossing her legs. “All day, you’ve shouted over us. You brought old grudges to light, grudges which should’ve been buried in the past and long forgotten, if not forgiven, but instead, you stuck to them like stubborn Academy _kids._ Need I remind you that it was _Suna_ , not _Konoha_ , who requested this meeting? That means that your _military dictator_ believes that you need outside help, despite his calls for independence and autocracy. But what you seem to forget is that _Konoha_ does not need this treaty. We are still the strongest shinobi Village, even with the losses we suffered by yours and Oto’s hands. But Suna? Your economy is the worst in all the shinobi nations, your people are despondent and your military is lacking. Who will you turn to for help if the Wind Daimyo chooses to do the same thing that was done following the Third Shinobi War and starts outsourcing missions that would’ve been given to your shinobi to _ours_? Who will you turn to? Iwa? Kumo? Not after what went down during the Third War. Kiri then? Unfortunately for you, as long as we offer more than you in terms of trade and aid, they will be loyal to us. Kusa? They’re barely a spot on the map. Amegakure, while close to you and fairly industrialised, is resentful of the countries which used their grounds as a battlefield during both wars and has a heavy isolationist policy not good for any merchants. Do you see now?”

There was a moment of silence that stretched for a good minute as all present in the room slowly digested her impromptu speech. Shikamaru sighed, hanging his head, but his shoulders were shaking with what Sakura belatedly realised was laughter, and the tension in his jaw was gone.

A quiet sputtering and then – “You crippled our best jounin!”

Finally, Sakura’s temper flared and she stood up, slamming her hands against the table, delighted when a small crack appeared, splitting the wood. “Then it doesn’t say much about the rest of your forces if your ‘best’ was brought down by a _genin_!” she spat viciously, then headed towards the door.

She could vaguely hear Shikamaru say something about how a night to think on their options would do everyone good, before he jogged to catch up with her.

They walked in silence, the shinobi who were still out and about in the streets moving almost unconsciously out of their way, and it was only once they were behind closed doors and in the comfort of their own apartment that Sakura let the tension bleed out of her shoulders.

Then, Shikamaru started laughing. “Y-You should’ve seen their face!” he chortled, and Sakura couldn’t help her own snort.

Collapsing on the sofa, she put her head in her hands. “Oh, it’s gonna come bite me in the ass come tomorrow, but that was so _satisfying._ ” She sighed, moving to rake a hand through her hair before she remembered the shemagh still wrapped around it.

“You are a terrifying, troublesome woman.” Shikamaru grumbled, but it was more fond than bemused and Sakura smiled despite herself.

“Whatever works, I guess.” And so saying, she waved Shikamaru goodnight and stumbled over to her own room, falling asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow.

* * *

 

They spent four more days arguing with the Elders, four days of going over the same material, bringing up the same petty grievances and getting back to their rooms at the end of the day exhausted and frustrated.

On the sixth day, they took a break. Sakura finally had the time to walk around Suna like a tourist might, the same way she had with Chojuro and Ao back in Kiri. She checked out the bookshops, cafes, sweetshops, weapons and souvenirs shops, and when she dragged all her bags back to her and Shikamaru’s apartment, the Nara, who had adamantly refused to accompany her on the grounds of ‘recuperating’, was passed out on the sofa, an arm over his eyes and jug of water on the floor beside him.

Sakura smiled fondly, dropped her bags off in her room, then stepped out again, heading to one of the cafes she’d spied along the way and was itching to try out.

But she was intercepted along the way.

“Oi, Haruno!”

Turning around, Sakura spied Temari walking quickly down the street to catch up to her, her fan strapped to her back.

“Yes, Temari-san?” the rosette asked politely, unconsciously hiding her hand behind her back when a phantom pain shot through it at the sight of Temari’s fan. “Can I help you?”

“Damn right you can.” The other girl replied, the look in her eyes bordering on _aggressive._ “I want a rematch.”

Sakura blinked. “Pardon me?”

The blonde scoffed. “Oh, don’t play dumb – I want a rematch of our Chunin Exam fight. You beat me once but you won’t manage the same trick the second time.”

For a second, Sakura couldn’t believe her ears. Then, she saw red. She opened her mouth to snap back at Temari, to tell her to grow up, but then a thought struck her and she shut it with an almost audible click as her mind worked through another scenario, a trick Anko had taught her. Her eyes scanned over Temari, the tense line of her shoulders, the twitch in her brow, the way one of her hands was balled into a tight fist.

“No.” she replied cheerfully, smiling at the blonde in the same fake manner that she’d grown to associate with Kakashi.

“ _Excuse me?_ ” Temari was almost seething. “So that’s it, huh? You beat me once, you get your promotion, and suddenly you think that you’re the shit? You make me-!”

“No.” Sakura cut her off, pinning the kunoichi with a sharp glare, then gave what Anko had taught her a go. “I won’t deign you with a rematch because I don’t have time. Unlike you, I have a treaty to present. I have to prepare arguments for it. I have to do something other than _sit there and look pretty_ like you have done the last week. Are you really the late Kazekage’s daughter? Because judging by your lack of involvement in the future of your own Village and the temper tantrum you just gave me front row seats to, you’re more like a _spoilt brat.”_

Temari was gawking. She stared at Sakura, her expression almost hilariously indignant, before she managed to splutter out a weak, “ _What?_ ”

But Sakura just shrugged. “I have more important things to do. Unless, of course, you are planning on helping me convince your Elders to agree to the _mutually beneficial_ treaty anytime soon.”

The blonde was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “You want me to… go against my own Elders? Ebizo-jiisama? _Chiyo-sama?_ Are you insane?”

The look Sakura levelled her with could’ve made hell freeze over, and the unimpressed eyebrow she’d learnt from Genma only highlighted how unimpressed she was with Temari’s response. Then, she delivered the final nail to the metaphorical coffin, nonchalant as can be even as her eyes were sharp and trained on the blonde as she waited for a reaction. “If you call ‘having a spine’ insanity, then you really _are_ pathetic.” 

_Three…_ Sakura thought idly, _two… one…_

“ _Fine._ ” Temari hissed, seething, and the muted rage in her eyes almost made Sakura flinch back. “ _Fine.”_ And then she turned on her heel and stormed off towards the centre of the village, and Sakura was left alone once again.

The rosette let out a quiet sigh. Now it was only the question of waiting to see whether her little play would come to fruition, or whether it would come back to bite her in the ass.

But she might as well make herself comfortable while she waits, and with that thought in mind, Sakura set off towards the café she was initially walking towards, a slight spring in her step.

She had a feeling things were about to turn _very_ interesting.

* * *

 

"Did you have to do that?" a voice drifted over to where Sakura was sitting in a small spot of shade at a table outside the cafe, her fuinjutsu notebook spread out before her and a plate of mochi and iced tea by her arm. She looked up, slightly startled to find two familiar faces and two of the Sand Siblings leaning against the wall separating the cafe's sitting area from the main street.

 

"Pardon me?" she asked curiously, blinking confusedly up at Kankuro who’d been the one to speak and warily noted the redhead she knew to be Gaara who stood silently beside him.

 

"Did you have to do that, with Temari, I mean." Kankuro clarified with a big sigh, and though there was slight irritation in his eyes he also seemed more amused than anything. "She stormed off to harass our Elders. Gaara and I only escaped by virtue of claiming we agree with her and jumping out the window." He added with a slight smirk, though Gaara remained impassive.

 

Sakura snorted at the description, and allowed the corner of her mouth to twitch up in self-satisfaction. "Ah, so she took my words to heart? Good."

 

She absently noted that Gaara's eyes were now fixed on her with a mix of curiosity and something deeper that she couldn't quite read, and idly wondered whether she should be worried. If Shikamaru was with her, Sakura was sure he’d call her ‘troublesome’ then drag her away from the duo. Curiously, she dragged her gaze away from the silent redhead and noted that Kankuro now looked a mix of exasperated and grudgingly amused.

 

"I don't think I even _want_ to know what you said to her. I almost pity the Elders."

 

Sakura grinned, then beckoned the brothers over and leant towards them conspirationally, any instinct of self-preservation be damned. She was _proud_ of what she’d achieved with Temari, especially if the older girl actually listened and did what she’d asked. Kankuro obeyed, leaning down with a grin, but Gaara stayed back, preferring to observe. "I essentially called her a wallflower and told her to get her shit together." Sakura divulged, then leant back while Kankuro blinked, absorbing her words.

 

"You _didn't_." he murmured, meeting her eyes with a look that was part awed, part terrified. " _Please_ tell me you didn't."

 

Unrepentant, Sakura grinned. "Oh, but I did." feeling a particular sense of shadenfreude, she took a sip of her iced tea while Kankuro shook his head.

 

"You're batshit insane." he summarised, and Sakura shrugged, deciding the observation was fair. "I-I'm gonna go. I think the Elders need to be saved from Temari." and then, in a burst of smoke, he was gone, and Sakura was left with Gaara still awkwardly staring her down.

 

"I don't think we have been properly introduced." Sakura mentioned when it seemed like the staring wasn't going to stop. "I'm Haruno Sakura. You're Gaara, right?"

 

She got a nod in response, then the redhead's eyes moved from her face to her notebook. A tiny frown appeared between his non-existent brows and when his eyes met hers again, there was the barest flicker of interest. Amused despite herself, Sakura pointed at the seat opposite her and tried her best not to jump when, between one blink and the next, the redhead was sitting carefully opposite her, only the slightest tendril of sand beside his ear letting her know that he’d moved at all.

 

“That looks…specialised.” Gaara finally spoke, and his voice was raspy and deep, not at all sounding like it belonged to a teenager but also not the terrifying death rasp she’d briefly heard at the Chunin Exams. Sakura belatedly realised that he was referring to the seals she’d drawn up, random sketches and hastily scribbled patterns she’d scribbled down when an idea had struck her.

 

In truth, her and Genma had been reading about fuinjutsu for a good eight months now. They’d worked on recognising seals, comprehension speed, seal arrays and patterns and uses and the seals that they had been able to find in books or archives of masters – some belonging to the Nidaime, some to the Yondaime, some to Jiraiya of the Sannin, some from the book she’d bought in Kirigakure which they later found out contained a smattering of basic seals from Uzushiogakure. But it had only been recently that they came across the idea of coming up with their own arrays. Genma immediately jumped on explosive tags, his reasoning being ‘if it explodes, that means you did it right, right?’ whereas Sakura’s first idea had been a knock-out tag, or at the very least, a chakra suppression one. That was what she was working on when the two Sand Siblings came over, and that was the page Gaara was referring to.

 

Realising that, she laughed. “This?” she asked, pointing at the notepad. “Nah, this is just scribbles. I do hope something useable can come out of it, but at the moment it’s just a work in process.”

 

Gaara looked from her notebook to her, then nodded. When a few more seconds passed and no more conversation was forthcoming, Sakura turned back to her seals, shoving a mochi in her mouth and casually offering one to the redhead.

 

Then, anywhere between five and fifteen minutes later, Gaara spoke again. “You manipulated my sister.”

 

Sakura startled, glancing up from her notepad at the unreadable jade eyes focused on her, though there didn’t seem to be neither anger nor judgement on the redhead’s face. Shutting her notebook, Sakura met his eyes.

 

“I did.” She admitted, easily, carefully. It was a bit off-putting to have it said so bluntly, but she reckoned that had been precisely what she’d done. And she didn’t regret it.

 

“Why?” to her surprise, Gaara’s tone wasn’t accusative, and though Sakura doubted he even knew what inflection was, much less how to use it, she was glad he seemed to be curious rather than murderous at the obvious foul-play.

 

So Sakura just sighed and answered as honestly as she could. She answered in the same way she’d spent a good hour justifying to herself what she’d done to Temari, because after the irritation with the blonde cleared, Sakura had felt bad. Awful. Because she was very much aware that when she was insulting Temari, she was pressing very specific buttons, yet she didn’t stop.

 

"I don't like death, Gaara-san.” She stated bluntly. “War equals death. However, war can be avoided by forging treaties and strong alliances. As a diplomat, my job is to do everything I can to secure that treaty. I'll do so by any means necessary. And, as you should by now be aware, I'm not above using shady interrogation tactics to get what I want."

 

The redhead regarded her for a few short seconds, then nodded. “That is fair.” He murmured. Then, his eyes seemed to sharpen slightly as they flickered over her yet again, and although there was nothing invasive in his gaze – there was hardly any emotion or intent _at all_ – Sakura still felt discomfited, naked. “Interrogation?” he repeated quietly, his rasp slightly less noticeable when he wasn’t speaking as loud as before. “Naruto hadn't mentioned that in his last letter.”

 

Sakura offered him a rueful smile in response, and a one shouldered shrug. “That's probably because I joined after he'd already left.” She admitted, keeping the information she gave out vague, even if she’d already accidentally revealed far more than she was comfortable with, potential ally or no. Then, the second part of his statement caught her attention and she pinned the redhead with a sharp glare. “Naruto?” she demanded, eyebrow arched. “You’re in touch with him?”

 

She was rewarded with a slow, confused blink. “Yes.” Came the blunt reply. “He sends letters, sometimes.” Then, the gaze shifted to curious, though some of the confusion remained. “Are you... _not_ in contact with him?” he asked hesitantly, and Sakura absently noted how much more talkative he’d become once Naruto came up.

 

She snorted. “No,” she admitted, a lot more bitterly than she’d planned, and she hastened to correct herself, though judging by how Gaara’s gaze sharpened, it was too late. “No, not since he left, at least.” Then, she paused, frowned. “Wait, I thought he was travelling. How do your letters reach him?” she asked, puzzled. Surely, if Gaara didn’t have Naruto’s permanent address, then it could only be a one-sided conversation.

 

Gaara blinked, then let his eyes fall to the plate of mochi. “A toad comes by sometimes to collect a reply.” He said quietly. “It's only happened about four times since he set out though.” 

 

“Huh.” Sakura murmured, mulling that piece of information over and ignoring the stab of hurt and annoyance that went through her heart. “That makes sense.” She agreed, dropping her eyes back to her seals.

 

A short silence settled over them, only slightly awkward, before Gaara broke it again. “I'm... sorry.” He said carefully, like the word was foreign on his time. Absently, Sakura realised it was probably because he didn’t have many people to say it too, growing up as a jinchuuriki, but while she felt sorry for him, she was also too preoccupied with the odd ball of _hurtangerguilthurt_ that formed in her stomach at the news. But then, Gaara spoke again. “I didn't mean to cause you pain.” He added awkwardly, and that had Sakura looking up. 

 

A startled bark of laughter escaped her, and she inwardly delighted at the confusion in Gaara’s eyes. Finally, some clear emotion. “You haven't.” she hastened to assure the redhead, waving him off in the same dismissive manner Genma often directed at her. “It stings, that's true, but I haven't been a great teammate before he left, and our team was never really as close as most in Konoha are. To tell you the truth, I'm not surprised.”

 

The real truth was that beyond some absent ‘ _wonder how he’s doing?’_ she hadn’t really even thought of her blond teammate since she’d wished him good luck in the hospital after the Kiri mission. Hypocritical of her then, to be upset at not having received letters, but she couldn’t deny that that was the reason for her bad mood.

 

She smiled wryly, knowing Genma would understand or at least help her talk through it, but also knowing that the tokujo was three-days’-run away, and a letter just wouldn’t have the same effect. She’d have to wait until they got back to spill this particular story, and until then, she’d just have to forget about it. After all, there was little she could do.

 

She glanced at Gaara, making her smile into something slightly more cheerful. “Nevermind that – tell me more. I know Naruto talked to you during exams – have his letters been similarly, y’know, preachy?” 

 

Gaara, at first glance, seemed startled. Then, only because she had been looking for it, she noticed the slightest upwards quirk of lips. _Score! “_ Mostly they describe what he's doing.” He said slowly, gauging Sakura’s reaction.

 

The pinkette grinned, stubbornly pushing the hurt and anger down. “So, learning impossible ninjutsu, succeeding despite the odds, and convincing murderers and missing-nin alike that they have a heart despite them having spent years proving otherwise?” she asked rhetorically, and was pleased to note a flicker of amusement in the jade eyes boring into her own, even as Gaara carefully measured his words for a response.

 

“That...sounds about right.” He admitted, and Sakura giggled. “He’s also been saying about his ambition to become Hokage, and…” he paused, gaze suddenly sharper as it darted around her face, far more assessing than before. Measuring her reaction, he finished; “I think I'd like to become Kazekage.”

 

Sakura carefully did not let any surprise show on her face, even if inwardly, she was absolutely bewildered. The teen before her had very nearly _levelled_ her _Village_ a year ago, a bloodthirsty, far too powerful psychopath contained in the body of a child, and now he was saying he wanted to become a _Kage?_

Then, Sakura banished the civilian, resentful part of her brain and considered the confession logically. Much like Mei becoming the Mizukage, having a jinchuuriki as a Kazekage would help curb most of the stereotypes surrounding the role.

 

She smiled, making sure it was cheerful and not a hint of her earlier disbelief showed through. “Good!” she exclaimed. “That's good!! When you become Kazekage and if Naruto becomes Hokage, it'll be good for you to have years of friendship to fall back on and be able to seek advice from each other. That’ll be one relationship you won’t have to fight tooth and nail to establish and maintain.” 

 

If she was good in her assessment, Gaara was…shocked. Or at least, very, very surprised.

 

“Your reaction is the most positive I've received so far.” He stated bluntly. “You don't think I'll be... disadvantaged? Because of my situation?” 

 

Hearing the barest undercurrent of insecurity in the question, Sakura pulled a Genma Shiranui Approved Manoeuvre Number 182 – ‘every serious, controversial situation can be lightened or avoided through inappropriate humour’. Mind set, she smirked. “You mean your fuzzy tenant?”

 

And because she was looking, she saw the exact moment Gaara’s eyes widened almost comically in comparison, as if unable to believe what he was hearing.

 

Sakura smiled wryly. “I may not have Naruto's blind optimism or the ability to deliver amazing speeches at the drop of a hat, but I have history on my side, so listen to me, Gaara-san. The Yondaime Mizukage was barely a teenager when he took over, and he was the host of the Three Tails, and he was rather popular before he went berserk. Then there's the current Mizukage, who is a holder of two bloodlines in a village which not even a decade ago was renowned for massacring its doujutsu users. The current Raikage's brother, Killer B is the jinchuuriki of the Eight Tails. Do you see? You are not respected because you are a Kage, you are a Kage because you are respected. Win people's hearts and minds and they will stand with you through it all.” She told him solemnly.  

 

The redhead considered her for a good minute, before finally murmuring, “Hearts and minds?” in a tone that suggested, well, far more approval than she’d initially hoped for.  

 

Sakura nodded seriously then tried to channel as much Naruto-conviction into her voice as she could. “That’s right, hearts and minds. Show them the worth of comradeship, show them your reliability, show them your care for the village and its people. The fact that you are a jinchuuriki could even work in your favour, you know.” She said, getting a slight widening of eyes in response before Gaara lapsed into silence.

 

He seemed to ponder something for a long time, and Sakura left him to it, going back to her notes. Then, there was a shift at the table and when she looked up again, the redhead was standing, and the corner of his lips was slightly, almost imperceptibly twisted up.  

 

“You must excuse me, Haruno-san.” He murmured, far more polite than Sakura expected, which was why she forgot to bite her tongue when she instinctively said;

 

“Just Sakura will do, Gaara-san.” 

 

Another assessing glance but a far shorter silence than before until Gaara nodded. “Sakura-san, then. But you must excuse me. I think... I think I'm going to help my siblings with the Elders.” And so saying, he was gone in a swirl of sand.

 

Now she had three more people fighting on her side and a whole day free of Sunagakure Elders. With a contented sigh and a bite of the Suna-special peanut mochi, she returned to her notes, scowling when she realised she still hadn’t figure out how to make the chakra burst that would come with the activation of the knock-out tag strong enough to knock the person unconscious but weak enough to prevent permanent harm to their nervous system. _Though that could be useful too,_ she mused, and pencilled in ‘ _max strength knockout effect?_ ’ in the margin to investigate when she had the time and means of testing.

 

* * *

 

Naturally, when she got back to their apartment, Shikamaru was less than impressed with what she’d done.

 

“I let you out of my sight for one day,” the brunet groaned as soon as the door closed behind her. “ _one day,_ and you turn the Kazekage’s children against their own Elders and manage to convince a homicidal jinchuuriki that he’d make a good Kage?”

 

Sakura scoffed, waving Shikamaru off halfheartedly as she opened the fridge, on the hunt for something to make for dinner. “You make it sound so much worse than it actually was.” She teased, eyes widening in joy when she spied a plastic container on one of the shelves that hadn’t been there in the morning, and she immediately pulled it out, stomach rumbling. “You _cooked_?” she asked reverently when, after popping the lid, the container revealed noodles, vegetables and the sweet tang of soy sauce.

 

Shikamaru snorted, not moving from his prone position on the sofa. “It’s just some vegetable stir fry, woman. You don’t need to sound so shocked.”

 

At that, Sakura pulled her eyes away from the plate that was spinning in the microwave and levelled the brunet with a flat look. “Shika, it’s the first food I haven’t had to hunt, make, or pay for in a month. Allow me treasure it, damn it.” She grouched, getting a huffed laugh and a dismissive ‘yeah yeah’.

 

Finally, once the microwave ‘ _pings’_ , Sakura snatched the bowl out and started shovelling the noodles in, realising belatedly that a breakfast fourteen hours earlier and a set of six mochi sweets at mid-afternoon was not enough nutrition to last a whole day. Then, almost comically, she paused, then her eyes watered and she almost choked once she realised how hot the food actually was. She heard a snort behind her as she made for the tap to pour herself a glass of water to put out the fire going down her oesophagus.

 

Once that was done, she brought her bowl over and flopped on the sofa – or rather, Shikamaru’s stomach, as the brunet was still stretched out over the whole couch and looking very unwilling to move – and studiously ignored the Nara’s winded ‘oof!’. She peered at the random sheets of paper scattered around the coffee table and floor, squinting to decipher Shikamaru’s surprisingly messy handwriting.

 

“Are you…working on a jutsu?” she asked at last, eyes narrowed contemplatively.

 

Shikamaru sighed, the movement making Sakura bob up and down, perched as she was on his stomach. “Yeah,” he admitted at last, sounding uncharacteristically frustrated which made the rosette shoot him a surprised look – Shikamaru was far too lazy by _half_ to get frustrated. “I thought- imbuing weapons with chakra is a method used to make the hit stronger, right?” he asked rhetorically, and Sakura nodded even as she waited for him to continue. “Well, I thought, what if I imbued kunai, or a tanto, with my shadow? That should be possible, given that our Shadow Possession is just Yin Release; just chakra manipulation, not an actual element.”

 

Sakura hummed, considering. “You’d have to maintain it at all times. And although you could use the natural shadow cast by your blade, you’d have to constantly monitor it and adjust every time you flip the tanto.” She muttered, thinking out loud.

 

But Shikamaru nodded regardless, propping himself up on his elbow and glancing at the papers on the coffee table. “Yeah, I worked it out-” his eyes scanned over the various sheets and equations before they settled on one with a rough sketch of a tanto and various angles and calculations, “here.” He finished, handing the sheet to Sakura to read over and then flopping back on the sofa with a groan. “Troublesome.”

 

The more Sakura read, the more she wanted to cry in frustration. There were dozens of complex calculations, of equations taking into consideration the approximate volume of his chakra coils, the surface area of a standard tanto, the chakra needed to produce and sustain a shadow on its underside and _more,_ all in cramped, messy writing and mathematical equations. The truth had been before her eyes since she took the time to get to know Shikamaru. She’d even _teased_ him about it before. But it was only now that she realised Shikamaru really could have beaten the Uchiha in the position of top Rookie, and easily so, if he’d so much as _twitched a finger_. And if they’d only been graded on academic accomplishments, she added as an afterthought. She sent one exasperated glance at the brunet she was using as a pillow then dove in headfirst to parse through the calculations.

 

When she looked up again, she’d almost gotten over her awe and was now more thoughtful than anything. “It’s doable.” She murmured at last. “I’ve personally channelled chakra through my weapons before, so that’s not a problem. Question is, chakra is blue. Your shadow is, well, a _shadow._ It’s less common, therefore more noticeable. Although there are weapons made from black steel, and I suppose mid-battle is not exactly the time that lets you thoroughly figure out what your opponent is using, so that might be in your favour. The only problem therefore is whether you could create and maintain a shadow without using the ambient shadow.”

 

Shikamaru hummed, picking up another sheet with fewer equations and more writing. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ve got a training plan here, but I just needed someone with more knowledge of chakra theory and control than me to look it over to see whether I was getting ahead of myself or whether it really is feasible.” He shrugged, an action made all the more difficult by the fact he was laying down.

 

Sakura blinked, slightly stumped. “And that someone… was me?” she asked incredulously.

 

The Nara looked at her like she was being intentionally slow. “Well, _duh_? You’re a genjutsu mistress and a med-nin. Your chakra control has to be at least in the 90 th percentile.”

 

“95th.” Sakura corrected automatically and was rewarded with an exasperated glare from Shikamaru.

 

“Case in point.” He grumbled. Then, slowly, a smirk grew on his lips. “So, if we’re going ahead with this… want to be my guinea pig?”

 

Sakura spluttered, indignant, then, unable to come up with a witty enough retort, made a frustrated noise and chucked a cushion at the brunet’s smirking face. The Nara’s startled yelp when the cushion met its mark sent her into a fit of giggles and resulted in her being unable to dodge the retaliatory throw that smacked right into her nose. With a shriek, she hopped up from her position and grabbed as many of the cushions as she could, Shikamaru doing the same, and they began pelting each other with their impromptu weapons, amid insults and laughter.

 

Needless to say, no jutsu testing was done for the rest of the day.

* * *

 

The next day when they were called back into the office and sat before the Council, the siblings’ seats were beside theirs instead of the Kazekage. Once Sakura and Shikamaru sat down, Temari leaned over and glared at the rosette.

 

“I spent a whole day yesterday arguing with them.” She hissed under her breath. “Once this treaty is signed, you are giving me that spar, Haruno.”

 

Sakura couldn’t help but grin smugly, seeing Shikamaru’s shoulders shake with laughter beside her. “Mmhm, sure. You better help us make sure that it gets signed then, ne?”

 

The expression of pure, unadulterated rage on Temari’s face very nearly made the rosette lose her composure, but luckily, the Elders chose that moment to begin the meeting.

 

“There have been… unexpected developments recently, which led us to reconsider our… hesitance for a treaty with the Leaf.” One of the women spoke, her face twisting in a grimace as she admitted to the ‘hesitance’ and Sakura was willing to bet that her views on the matter had not changed in the slightest. Nevertheless, she smiled, allowing the woman to continue. “What does the Leaf has to offer?”

 

Shikamaru sighed, but proceeded to repeat the terms they had presented days before. Sakura tuned in, piping up from time to time, but mostly she was watching the expressions of the Elders while the Nara spoke. There was less hostility this time around, but there wasn’t all that much enthusiasm either.

 

_Well… we’ll have to fix that then._

* * *

 

“Oh. My. God.”

 

“Sakura, you’ve said that five times already.”

 

“No, Shikamaru, listen – _oh my god._ ”

 

“You should be glad I’m too comfortable to move and smack you.”

 

“You are too lazy by half. But don’t distract me! I haven’t finished complaining about the Elders yet!”

 

“Will you _ever_ finish?”

 

“As soon as they get those poles out of their asses, yeah, maybe!”

 

“Man, I’m never going to know peace again.”

 

There was a moment of silence as the words sunk in, before they both started laughing madly and wheezing for breath. Eventually, they calmed down, but only when a disbelieving snort reached their ears and Sakura looked up, and up again because at some point her and Shikamaru had fallen to the ground and were laying on each other, but when she finally did, she met Temari’s very unamused gaze.

 

“I spent a whole day yesterday arguing with them.” She hissed under her breath. “Once this treaty is signed, _I want my spar._ ”

 

Shikamaru raised an eyebrow and nudged Sakura curiously, but the rosette just smiled and nodded. “As long as the treaty is approved by our respective Kages and our job here is done, I don’t mind.”

 

All the anger seemed to go out of Temari like air out of a balloon and Sakura watched, amused, as she seemed to deflate.

 

“That’s it?” she asked, almost unable to believe it. “No grand speech? Just ‘I don’t mind’?”

 

But Sakura smiled again. “Pretty much. Now that it’s sorted, I don’t actually mind-” but she was interrupted by a messenger appearing out of nowhere. And Sakura _literally_ meant nowhere because there were no trees to hide behind or buildings – her and Shikamaru were literally laying in the shade of the wall surrounding the Village, the whole rest of the Village in front of them.

 

“Temari-sama?” the messenger asked, sounding harried and incredibly out of breath, but that didn’t stop Sakura rom doing a doubletake at the honorific. “There are some foreign shinobi at the Gates requesting entry.”

 

Immediately, Temari sharpened to attention and Sakura immediately saw a trace of the same authoritative air she sometimes saw around Tsunade – the girl’s gaze sharpened and her next words were little more than a demand. “Foreign shinobi? Well did you see where they were from?”

 

“Kirigakure, Temari-sama.”

 

Blanching, Temari straightened out and started walking so fast Sakura had to scramble to her feet and jog to catch up, but once she did, she stayed quiet, the look on the blonde’s face making her bite her tongue.

 

There was a thought niggling at the back of her mind, a slight suspicion as to the reason Kiri shinobi may have for visiting Sunagakure and just _who_ it may be. But then she dismissed the thought as wishful thinking.

 

At least until they actually got to the Gates and Sakura saw the two figures waiting outside, the taller, bulkier one who despite being surrounded by three enemy shinobi staring at him with a barely concealed air of hostility managed to look like he owned the place, and the slightly smaller, slighter figure though only an inch or two shorter, a weird shape on the latter’s back.

 

And then, the smaller shinobi pulled his hood off and Sakura’s breath hitched. She’d know that shade of pale-blue anywhere.

 

With nary a thought for Temari nor any of the guards, Sakura threw herself forward, not stopping until she barrelled straight into the second figure, wrapping her arms around the teen.

 

“ _Chōjūrō-kun!”_


	16. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for the lovely response for the last chapter!  
> massive shoutout to my bae jellie for being an absolute angel and helping me sort my life out while this was happening. 
> 
> alsooo... i'm warning you ahead of time that this chapter is gonna be a bit of a rollercoaster... yeah.  
> also, be aware that this chapter contains a bit of fairly graphic depictions of injury, gore, and a less-than-stable state of mind.  
> i've also included a timeline i made with the amazing @rosedraquia on tumblr in the end notes - just for extra clarification of when stuff happened.
> 
> tl;dr:  
> tw: gore  
> tw: graphic injury  
> tw: mental instability and paranoia

“ _Chōjūrō-kun!_ _”_

 Chōjūrō’s gasp when she barreled into his chest no doubt meant that she winded him, but Sakura couldn’t quite bring herself to care – she merely wrapped her arms tighter around his chest and squeezed.

“S-Sakura-san-!” the teen choked out, his own arms wrapping shyly around her waist before Sakura finally released him and beamed up at him instead.

“What are you doing here? Not that it’s not great to see you – it _is_ , trust me – but this is a long trek!” Sakura demanded, unable to fight the grin from her face. Then, she almost jumped when she realised the other Mist shinobi was still beside them. “Ao-san, didn’t think I’d say this last time we saw each other, but it is really great to see you.” She greeted enthusiastically and bowed politely, trying to preserve at least some dignity in the jounin’s eyes.

Judging by the brusque nod she received, she failed. “Mizukage-sama said you may require some assistance with the Sunagakure Elders. We are here to provide said assistance.”

Sakura managed to get over her elation at seeing her pen pal in the flesh again to briefly narrow her eyes at the ex-hunter-nin. “What’s the catch?” she demanded, and maybe it was a trick of light but she thought she saw an amused glint in the jounin’s eyes.

Nevertheless, he answered. “Mizukage-sama also wishes we, on Kirigakure’s behalf, extend the same treaty as you are attempting to. She believes it will be beneficial.” The look on his face clearly said he disagreed, but Sakura didn’t bother psychoanalysing Ao when she had Chōjūrō beside her in the flesh to tease and chatter away with.

So she grabbed Chōjūrō’s arm and beckoned to Ao and started leading them towards the Gates into the Village proper. “Right, follow me, I can show you around and take you to the Kazekage – we’ve finished deliberating for the day and let me tell you, they’re _exhausting_ to deal with, Shikamaru and I nearly cried a couple of times, but you’ll clearly see they tend to recycle arguments against the treaty so it’s not too bad, now-!”

“Oi, Haruno!” Temari’s shout cut her off and she looked around, surprised to see the blonde and Shikamaru side by side and staring at her with a mix of disbelief and anger and amusement respectively. “What do you think you’re doing? I need to check their papers!”

Sakura scowled, weaving her arm through Chōjūrō’s and stepping closer to the bluenette. “But you know who they are. Look,” she pointed at the Konohagakure headband wrapped around Chōjūrō’s thigh. “Kirigakure Ambassadors to Konoha.”

Temari matched her scowl with one of her own. “That may be so, but I need more than a word of a _foreigner_ before I let them into the Village.” She snapped, and Sakura recoiled slightly, and by her side, Chōjūrō tensed.

“How about the word of an ally?” Shikamaru shot back, a frown making its way onto his face as he assessed Temari. “I thought you were for the treaty?”

This time, Sakura didn’t miss the way the blonde’s eyes flickered to the guards. Guards who had reacted positively when she called Sakura a foreigner and were shamelessly eavesdropping to see where the conversation would go. For the first time, she felt sympathy for Temari – as the late Kazekage’s eldest, the people of Suna obviously looked to her and judged her almost constantly. She had to be seen as the personification of the views of the villagers lest the pressure on her increase even more.

Squeezing Chōjūrō’s arm slightly tighter, she forced a smile on her face and turned to Shikamaru. “We’re not allies until the treaty is signed, Shikamaru. She was within her right to say that.”

Sakura studiously ignored the way Temari startled and turned to her, the expression on her face torn between confused and grateful.

Eventually, Ao and Chōjūrō’s papers got approved and Temari led them to the Kazekage’s office. Before they were forced to separate, Sakura grabbed a blank seal tag from her pouch and scribbled down her and Shikamaru’s address.

“Come over once you’re freed and we’ll show you around!”

Once the duo was led inside, Sakura’s smile dropped and she turned to Shikamaru with a frown.

“Oh, thank God.” Shikamaru sighed, pulling at his scarf. “I thought I was getting paranoid but your face tells me this _is_ actually as dodgy as it seems.”

Sakura snorted, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “I mean, I really want to think that Mei-sama genuinely sent them to help us. I _really_ do. And even with the clarification that she also wants a treaty with Suna…”

“The timing is too convenient.” Shikamaru finished her thought process, and the rosette nodded. “So question is, did Tsunade-sama tell the Mizukage she’d be sending us here?”

Sakura sighed, “She had to have done.” And then, she paled. “Oh, _no_.” she gasped, hand going up to cover her mouth, eyes wide as they met Shikamaru’s. “Right before we left, I wrote Chōjūrō a letter and asked Genma to send it. I told him where I’d be, what we’d be doing. Do you think…?”

Shikamaru froze for a second, then relaxed. “The Mizukage wouldn’t send them over based on a friendly correspondence of a chunin. Tsunade-sama had to have told her she’d be sending us beforehand.”

Even with what the Nara was saying, Sakura still wasn’t reassured. The fact that all her letters to Chōjūrō could’ve been screened before being handed to the bluenette hadn’t struck her until just then, and she gulped. It wasn’t like her letters contained Village secrets, they were just friendly banter and innocuous detail about her day or her friends, but she wondered what someone looking through them with an eye peeled for exploitable details could’ve found. Her stomach roiled.

And then, Shikamaru grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Sakura, relax. I’m sure the Hokage has been in touch with the Mizukage and that’s how she knew to send Ao and Chōjūrō over here. I know you and you wouldn’t have included anything even vaguely incriminating, you’re smarter than that. So just breathe, woman.”

With that calm reassurance, it was impossible to continue freaking out, so Sakura smiled and nodded instead, regulating her breathing and feeling her heart slow down. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

* * *

Over the next week, deliberations with the Elders moved much more smoothly than they had during the fortnight Sakura and Shikamaru had been trying to put their point across. It turned out that Ao was very much of the opinion that steamrolling over any and all opposition was the best way to go, tact and political maneuvering be damned, and Chōjūrō provided statistics and quiet input of the benefits that came with a treaty with the most powerful shinobi Village. All Sakura and Shikamaru really needed to add were their own statistics, validation of Ao’s arguments, and the terms requested by Tsunade.

Within six days of the Mist diplomats’ arrival, they had two treaties hammered out and all that was left was mailing them to their respective Kages for the final seal of approval.

A week after Chōjūrō’s arrival, Sakura finally had the time to drag the other team to a training ground and demand a spar.

Chōjūrō had laughed when she barged into his and Ao’s shared flat, but gracefully agreed, pointing out that he wouldn’t mind a chance to let loose after the week spent in the Council rooms. Shikamaru tagged along too, claiming that he was bored out of his mind and the piles of paperwork he’d amassed for his original jutsu were only stressing him out.

That was precisely how Sakura, Chōjūrō and Shikamaru found themselves on one of the most secluded training grounds, the Nara perching comfortably in the shade provided by the Village wall along the edge of the grounds while Sakura and the swordsman faced off in the middle.

“All out?” Sakura asked curiously, unable to fight off a grin. “Or controlled sparring?”

Chōjūrō shrugged, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips as well, “C-controlled might be good. It wouldn’t do if either of us got injured.”

Sakura acquiesced easily and sealed up her naginata, pulling out a wooden bo instead and watching Chōjūrō do the same. “Go up to ten? And each hit counts as one?”

When Chōjūrō nodded and settled into a stance, Sakura grinned and mirrored him, holding up a Seal of Confrontation and waiting until the bluenette did the same.

Then, she sprung _._

* * *

“So she refuses to spar with me but doesn’t mind flirting with the Mist brat via swordplay?”

Shikamaru almost jumped, having fallen into a light doze with the regular sounds of clashing wood and the warmth of the afternoon air around him like a blanket. He straightened from where he’d slumped against the wall and craned his neck up to look at Temari.

“I’m pretty sure he’s older than you.” He pointed out, ignoring the rest of her sentence – it was pretty clear to him that the two sparring were _fighting_ , not _flirting_. “And now that the treaty is officially signed, I’m sure Sakura would happily spar with you if you just asked.”

Temari glared down at the lazy brunet, “I’m sixteen,” she snapped, “and I _did_ ask.”

“So’s he,” Shikamaru replied, absently amused at the two completely different conversations they were having, “and you didn’t really ask, you _demanded_.”

The blonde narrowed her eyes at him and Shikamaru was almost certain she was going to hit him, but then there was a peal of laughter and their eyes were drawn back to the sparring duo.

Sakura managed to twirl out of the way of a downwards strike that would’ve easily broken her shoulder had it hit, and swung to deliver a retaliatory hit to Chōjūrō’s side, which he blocked with his own bo. They clashed again, weapons clutched tight and raised above their heads, arms shaking with the effort needed to keep the other at bay. Temari absently noticed that for such a slight figure, the rosette’s arms were packed with strong, sinewy muscles and she briefly wondered how much her style had to have changed to require such added physical conditioning.

But then, Sakura let go and ducked out of the way, Chōjūrō stumbling slightly when the opposing force suddenly gave way, and before he could regain his footing, Sakura bent down and scooped some dirt up before flinging it in his face. Using his distraction, she darted closer and lightly hit him either side of the ribs before flipping away, a grin on her face even as she settled back in a defensive position.

When Chōjūrō managed to wipe the dirt away, the air around them had changed.

“Eight all!” Sakura called out teasingly, then they clashed again.

“That was underhanded.” Temari commented, her eyes wide as she tracked the sparring teens.

“Practical.” Shikamaru countered, stretching his legs. “Sakura’s a firm believer that an honourable death is still a death. That’s why I don’t usually spar with her – she can be quite vicious.”

Temari turned away from the snoozing teen to the slip of a girl who had beaten her in the Chunin Exams. Just what the hell had to have happened for the rosette to develop such a mentality?

“I thought Konoha was meant to be the ‘nice’ Village.” She murmured under her breath and watched as the spar ground to a halt – the swordsman stood with his bo pressed by Sakura’s liver while her own was resting on his thigh.

“Liver blow or a cut to the femoral artery. Either way, we’re both dead within minutes.” Sakura summarised cheerfully, and Chōjūrō nodded, though he looked slightly uncomfortable.

“S-Score?” he asked quietly, stepping back – from what Temari only just noticed was very close proximity – and forming the Seal of Reconciliation.

“I believe that’s 10-9 to you. Well done, Chōjūrō-kun! Well fought!” the rosette cheered, grinning when her sparring partner blushed.

“T-to you too, Sakura-san.”

As one, they turned towards Shikamaru and froze, only just noticing Temari.

Sakura recovered first, “Temari-san!” she greeted, her smile not faltering despite the slightly more cautious glint in her eyes. “Do you need anything?”

And Temari spared a glance at the dozing Nara, taking his words into consideration, before she squared her shoulders and met the rosette’s gaze with her own. “That spar you promised me would be nice.”

The other girl blinked, momentarily stumped, before she caught on and laughed. “Sure, Temari-san! Just let me grab a quick drink and I’ll be with you!”

* * *

Shikamaru woke up when a kick was delivered to his ribs. “You could’ve warned me you’d sold me to the wolves, you _lazyass_.”

When he looked up, he found his mission partner glaring at him, a sullen look on her face as she held her water bottle by her lips.

Laughing quietly, Shikamaru stretched, nodding to Chōjūrō who’d settled beside him. “Better you than me, Sakura. Her chatter kept me from my nap.”

He rolled away from the second kick and snorted when the rosette dropped her empty water bottle by his head. “I hate you so much.” then,she was turning on her heel and strutting to the middle of the training ground where Temari was already waiting.

With a final stretch, Shikamaru forced himself into a sitting position, startling Chōjūrō. “I-I thought y-you were going to s-sleep.” The older teen murmured, and Shikamaru shrugged.

“I would’ve, but I have a feeling this is going to be interesting. Plus, she’d nag at me if I slept through her fight.”

Nodding as if that was a perfectly reasonable explanation, Chōjūrō settled with his back against the Village wall, his own water bottle in his lap, and prepared to watch.

Meanwhile, Sakura squared off against Temari, shaking the lactic acid out of her muscles as she smiled. "Rules?” she asked lightly, to which the blonde smirked.

“No life-threatening injuries. Anything else is fair game.” And then, not even a second after they both formed the Seal of Confrontation, they were fighting.

* * *

Immediately when she saw Temari tense, Sakura flashed through the seals for the first three genjutsu that popped into her mind, then dodged with barely enough time to avoid the folded fan Temari swung at her head. Spinning round and aiming a side-kick at the blonde’s unprotected side, Sakura saw the moment the genjutsu took and was promptly dismissed, which only resulted in Temari tripping head-first into the second layer. Refusing to be idle while the blonde worked out her genjutsu, Sakura dropped explosive tags around her feet, formed a hasty Earth Clone, then disappeared underground, moving to the very edge of the training grounds right when she felt the last layer of her illusion break.

“You learnt your lesson after our previous match.” Her clone commented idly. “That’s good.”

But Temari’s eyes were fixed on the smattering of explosive notes around their feet. “Are you insane?! If you detonate that, we’ll both-!”

Sakura’s clone merely grinned. “Boom.”

Then, the tags lit up.

The following explosion caused a massive cloud of dust to erupt, and Sakura waited to see where Temari moved off to to escape it before she followed, hand rising up and grabbing the blonde’s calve in a teasing mimicry of their Chunin Exam match. But it seemed Temari now knew better too, as she hastily flash-stepped away to the other side of the clearing, and Sakura emerged from the ground, unaffected.

She hadn’t really expected that to work the second time, but seeing the expression on the blonde’s face was incredibly satisfying. What was not quite so satisfying was seeing Temari grin and go through unfamiliar handsigns.

_“Wind Release: Great Task of the Dragon!”_

Sakura waited, confused, but when nothing happened she pulled out a handful of shuriken and launched them at the blonde, then followed through with the Hazy genjutsu and waited.

However, the sun was suddenly obscured by giant storm clouds, and Sakura felt an enormous wind pick up around them.

“I know how much you like hiding!” Temari called from the other side of the clearing, Sakura’s illusion already broken. “Let’s see if you’re quick enough!”

And then, a tornado descended upon the rosette, trapping her within.

* * *

Shikamaru sat up, the rosette’s name dying on his lips as the tornado closed around his partner.

By his side, Chōjūrō was squeezing his arms till they were almost white, his eyes trained on the fight. This wasn’t ‘no life-threating attacks’ at all. The technique Temari used had to have at least been a B-Rank.

The blonde in question looked smug, one of her hands propped on her hip while the other held her fan as she waited for the tornado to dissipate.

But when it did, there was nothing there.

Before she could react, the ground under Temari’s feet turned to mud and she sank till only her chin was above ground, before the earth solidified again. Sakura emerged moments later, ending up in a kneeling position right by Temari’s head, her arms shaking with fatigue but a grin on her face.

“You learnt to dispel my genjutsu, but it seems you still have to learn the consequences of overconfidence.” She commented idly before she rose to her feet, brushing off the dust that had collected on her clothes while Temari gaped, uncomprehending.

“B-But, you-! In that tornado, you were _there_!” she cried, and Sakura smiled.

“You yourself said I love hiding, and that’s true. With the path I want to take, if a mission ends with open combat, it means that I’d most likely failed it. So I like to bide my time, or fight by proxy. You saw me use an Earth Clone before and yeah, maybe it was obvious and it didn’t actually harm you at all, but what made you think I wouldn’t use it again?” she explained, and when Temari still looked shocked, she sighed. “What do you want to know?”

The blonde blinked, considering. “When did you switch? I take it you were never in the tornado to start with.”

Sakura grinned. “You’re right, I wasn’t.” she agreed easily, then set about freeing Temari from the ground while she explained. “In my experience, anything that has delayed start-up time is usually quite deadly. So, when I threw the shuriken and caught you in that genjutsu, I also created an Earth Clone which appeared behind me, and then hid underground. By the time you broke my genjutsu and the tornado came down, you were already dealing with a clone.”

She offered the blonde a hand to pull her up, and when she took it, they formed the Seal of Reconciliation and smiled.

“I still think hiding during a fight is cowardly.” Temari began, an odd look on her face, “But I will admit its effectiveness. Well fought.”

Unwilling to show how much that comment surprised her, Sakura shot the blonde a cocky grin she’d copied from Anko. “Well, I still think yelling out your techniques for everyone to know what to expect is foolish and an invitation to get hit,” she shot back, “But I will admit that being able to pull off A-Rank techniques like that is impressive. I heard you have a summon too?”

And Shikamaru watched the two walk off, chatting like old friends despite the air of hostility that surrounded them bare minutes previous, and exchanged a baffled look with Chōjūrō.

“Women,” The Nara summarised at last. “and assassins, are terrifying.”

It took a moment, but when the bluenette realised what Shikamaru was getting at, he froze.

Delighting in the feeling of schadenfreude he was experiencing, Shikamaru smirked. “Yup; small, pink-haired, deceptively innocent Sakura is an assassin. How d’you feel about that?”

But it seemed he’d broken the bluenette, as he was staring unblinkingly at the rosette’s retreating back, still frozen.

Shikamaru settled comfortably on his back and deemed his work to be done.

* * *

All four of the diplomats plus Temari were summoned to the Kazekage’s office two weeks after the Mist duo’s arrival.

“The treaty has been approved by both of your Kages. From this day onwards, Sunagakure is once again allies with the Leaf, and, for the first time in history, Mist and Suna are too. Thank you for your service, your work here is done.” Ebizo announced, and Sakura noted that he was more careful in controlling the amount of disdain that dripped from his words when Ao was around.

_Huh._

“Temari shall be the official Ambassador to the Leaf, and we are still working on who will be Mist’s, though the position will likely go to her brother, Kankuro. But now, you are all formally dismissed – rest, then pack, and you are free to set out for your respective Villages in the morning.”

As one, Sakura, Shikamaru, Ao and Chōjūrō bowed, murmured various thanks and pleasantries, and filed out of the office.

When they were safely out of earshot, Shikamaru sighed and stretched, rubbing at his headscarf. “Man, I can’t wait to be rid of this thing.” He grumbled, pulling at the material as they walked, Ao and Chōjūrō trailing behind them.

“Really?” Sakura teased, a grin on her face. “I think you look rather fetching.” She jumped over the foot Shikamaru stuck out to trip her and laughed at the dirty glare he shot her way. “Oh, come on, lighten up, we’re going home tomorrow!”

Then, when the corner of the Nara’s mouth quirked up at the thought, Sakura turned to the Mist duo. “Will you be setting off towards Kiri then? Or can you spare a few days to come to Konoha?”

Chōjūrō smiled at her, but it was Ao who answered, “The Mizukage wishes for us to present a report of Kirigakure’s socio-economic growth since the signing of the treaty to your Hokage. As such, we shall travel with you, since our business in Suna is also resolved.”

Sakura nodded and fell silent, taking in Suna for the last time before what she predicted to be a fairly long separation. Although at first she had been angry, and that had somewhat affected her perception of the Village, now, she didn’t mind so much. The slight tan she managed to work up was also improving her mood considerably.

After agreeing to depart at seven the next morning, Sakura and Shikamaru split off from the Mist-nin and prepared for their last night in Suna.

* * *

They left the next morning at the agreed time, bags heavy and spirits high, and the further they got from the desert and unforgiving sun, the more Shikamaru relaxed and cheered up, falling back into easy camaraderie with Sakura once they officially crossed the border into the Land of Rivers a day later.

It was in the morning of the second day travelling, half-way through the Land of Rivers that everything went wrong.  

Everything seemed normal – Sakura and Ao led the group of four, Shikamaru and Chōjūrō  bringing up the rear, they had a steady speed going and it looked like they were going to reach Konoha in a little under a day.

And then, while they were deciding where to take a break, Chōjūrō spied a clearing in between the trees and directed them towards it.

But just as Sakura’s feet reached a branch on the edge of the clearing, Ao landing a few metres to her right, she came face-to-face with a masked shinobi holding a ball of tags in his hands.

Tags which, after a second’s more inspection, were high-energy, long-distance explosive tags. Tags which already had chakra running through the sigils and were smoking slowly on the edges.

_Shit-!_

Turning around, Sakura waited till his feet touched the branch she was on then grabbed Shikamaru’s arm. She took advantage of his confusion to overpower his forward momentum and launch him sideways and towards Ao, who, luckily, seemed to be on the same page as her and, the second his hold on the Nara was secure, disappeared from sight.

All the action happened within the space of less than three seconds.

Then, Sakura had just enough time to grab Chōjūrō’s arm and flash through the signs for a _shunshin_ before the ball of exploding tags went off and the resulting explosion made it difficult to tell up from down and left from right.

When she next came to, the back of Sakura’s left calve and thigh were burning, clear indications that she had not been able to escape the blast unscathed. A groan beneath her alerted her to the fact that the reason her landing had been so soft was because she’d accidentally used Chōjūrō as a cushion, but at least the teen had survived as well. Upon further inspection, however, she noticed that there was a wicked-looking burn all along his right arm, side and thigh.

Not good for a sword wielder.

Blinking rapidly, Sakura got to her feet, hissing when her leg and side gave an angry throb, and extended a hand to Chōjūrō, which he ignored. Frowning, Sakura looked around and realised that there were gaps in the trees that had not been there before – the clearing which they had arrived at before the makeshift bomb had gone off had at least quadrupled in size, the trees surrounding it charred, levelled or completely incinerated. Suddenly, Sakura noticed movement in her peripheral vision, and when she squinted, she saw at least ten black blurs moving rapidly in their direction. The fact that they were at least a kilometre away was little comfort.

“Chōjūrō, get up.” She ordered hoarsely, coughing to get rid of the taste of ash in her mouth. “We’ve got incoming.” She snapped, when the swordsman remained prone on the ground. That at least was enough to make him attempt to rise to his knees. Gritting her teeth, Sakura grabbed his arm and pulled, feeling guilty when a pained hiss left the blunette but pushing that guilt to the back of her mind in the face of the incoming danger. “I’m sorry but we have to move. I’ll heal you as soon as we lose our tail.” And so saying, she set off, pumping chakra into her legs for longer, faster leaps, running faster than she’d ever ran before, Chōjūrō by her side though he winced with every landing. Sakura pushed on in the same manner for about ten minutes, until she was sure their pursuers were out of sight.

 “Okay-!” she slowed down, turning around to face her temporary partner, and suddenly felt a hot, sharp pain on the side of her neck. Staggering away, Sakura gasped and created distance between her and the masked shinobi she only just noticed. The masked shinobi who held an oversized, wickedly sharp kunai in his hand, and Sakura knew that it would’ve easily slit her throat had she not chosen that precise moment to turn around. Mind whirring in panic because she had not sensed him how was that possible this wasn’t good and where is Chōjūrō-! she pumped chakra into her right hand, ducked the nin’s next swipe at her head, and slammed her palm against the left side of his chest. Then, she expelled her chakra.

He dropped dead within seconds, his heart no longer beating.

Panting, Sakura looked around, locating Chōjūrō a few dozen feet to the left, holstering his Hiramekarei and pushing the shinobi beside him away, barely flinching when the man fell down in two parts, his torso cleanly separated from his legs.

Mind made up, Sakura squashed her chakra down and made the familiar handsigns for the Double False Surroundings technique. Then, she flashed over to the Chōjūrō and grabbed his hand, pulling him down to the ground beneath the branches they were standing on.

“Don’t move.” She snapped, hands glowing green merely seconds before she pressed them to the swordsman’s arm and side. “And hide your chakra. I hid us with a genjutsu but if they were able to sneak up on us, I don’t think it’ll keep them for long.”

Almost immediately, she felt Chōjūrō’s chakra shrink until it was comparable to that of a deer or rabbit. Sending him a small smile, the most she could manage at the moment, she made sure his burns were healed enough so as not to impede his mobility before she dismissed the chakra surrounding her hands.

“You should h-heal yourself too.” Chōjūrō murmured, his voice quietly concerned, but Sakura shook her head.

“I don’t trust my genjutsu to hold them long enough.” She denied and turned around, intent on continuing to run, but Chōjūrō grabbed her uninjured arm before she could get away.

“Please, Sakura. I-I’ll keep watch.” And the serious, albeit worried look in his eyes made something in the rosette cave. Giving him a jerky nod, she watched the teen jump back up into the foliage, chakra still carefully subdued, before she summoned the familiar green chakra to one hand and laid it on her neck, sealing up the still-bleeding cut.

But then, she heard a rustle and glanced up into the branches, paling when she noticed a masked kunoichi sneak up behind Chōjūrō, whose attention was focused in the opposite direction. Sakura watched, feeling dread pool in her stomach, as the unknown kunoichi flashed through awfully familiar handsigns that ended in the Ram seal.  

Sakura was moving almost before she registered what she was doing.

She _recognised_ those handsigns, had _practised_ them even, and she _knew_ that they would be as good as dead if _Chōjūrō_ got hit by that jutsu. Hands running through the seals for the Replacement technique, Sakura felt the tell-tale tug at her chakra before the disorientation that came from switching places in the space of milliseconds hit her. 

Sakura had just enough time to meet the startled black eyes of the masked kunoichi as she completed the jutsu before a claw of earth rose up and clamped around her leg.

 Then, it _squeezed_. 

 The sickening sound of bone crunching as it broke filled the air and Sakura _screamed_ , her vision going white with pain.

 She passed out. 

* * *

Sakura didn’t know how much time had passed by the time she next came to, but she forced her eyes open anyway, slightly bemused to find herself on her back.

 

 _Still alive though,_ she thought grimly. The pain radiating up her leg was making her nauseous and she whimpered, feeling tears roll down her cheeks when she tried to move. Gasping for breath, Sakura raised her head slowly, long enough to glance down her body, then immediately dropped it back down with a dull _thud_ , feeling bile rise up in her throat. Unfortunately – or fortunately – her right leg was still surrounded by the hard shell of the kunoichi's jutsu, making it impossible to gauge just how bad it was.

 

But Sakura expected the worst.

 

Resigned, she glanced to the left, and was surprised to see the masked kunoichi's head laying by her arm, the rest of her body slumped a few meters away, bloodied and torn. 

 

"-kura? Sakura! Sakura, can you hear me?"

 

Only then did Sakura tune in, realising too late that Chōjūrō was leaning over her, his face concerned and dotted with specks of blood. 

 

"’jūrō?" the rosette murmured, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Wha'ppened?" she slurred, trying to sit up, hissing when the movement jostled her broken leg. 

 

"You switched places with me." Chōjūrō replied, the concern in his eyes joined by what looked like bewilderment. "She crushed your leg. I... I lost control. I didn't know the Hiramekarei could do that." The last part was added almost as an afterthough, the blunette sounding more than a little shell-shocked as he gazed at the dead kunoichi’s dismembered body.

 

"Right." Sakura took a deep breath and forced herself into a sitting position, then carefully touched the earthly cast around her leg. "I need your help to get this off."

 

A few seconds and a small water jutsu later, Sakura’s leg was freed from the earth shell, and they could finally get a proper assessment of the damage.

Almost immediately after the last of the mud cleared, Sakura gagged and felt fresh tears spring to her eyes. The way Chōjūrō’s face went an interesting mix of white and green did nothing to calm her either. To say her leg looked ‘bad’ would probably be the understatement of the century; it was more than broken – it was _crushed_. Her pants’ leg was ripped and shredded, and the skin of her shin that peaked through the torn cloth was completely gone in some places, pierced by the shattered bone shards which left patches of raw, bleeding tissue and bone fragments peeking out. Higher up her leg, her femur was clearly fractured, if not completely broken. At least her knee seemed to have been spared, although it was already bruising.

Sakura took a deep breath through her nose, a terrifying realisation settling deep in her bones and sending a chill down her spine.

She didn’t know how to heal this.

“Chōjūrō,” she choked out at last, “you have to go. I don’t- I can’t heal this. You need to get away, I’ll delay them as long as I can.”

She didn’t know what to do.

She had initially seen around a dozen shinobi chase after them. With three down, that left around ten, maybe fewer. Stationary as she was, she could maybe take care of five, six at most. Still, she could delay them. If only Chōjūrō would listen and start _running_ -!

“What do you mean, you can’t heal this?!” Chōjūrō’s voice had risen in his panic, and Sakura was too far gone to notice that he hadn’t stuttered once. “Y-You healed my burns just fine!”

Sakura gritted her teeth and fought the tears that threatened to fall as she glared at the bluenette. “This is different! I quit the medic programme before we learnt how to heal bones! _I don’t know what to do!_ ” the tears spilled regardless.

_She felt helpless._

Chōjūrō’s hands fluttered uselessly over her calve and thigh, then he made a sound akin to a sob and fell back on his bum, burying his face in his hands.

“You need to leave me and start running.” Sakura ground out, moving green-glowing hands to the worst of the flesh wounds, but staying well away from the bone. “Go!”

Then, Chōjūrō looked up, and the light in his eyes had changed. “No.”

Before Sakura could scream at him, he took his sword off his back and pulled out a scroll, sealing Hiramekarei within the paper. “Heal w-what you can. I’ll carry you.”

Sakura blinked, momentarily stupefied enough to ignore the pain or the urgency of the situation. Then- “Are you insane?! We’ll both die!”

But she could see that the bluenette’s mind was set. And then, as if their situation wasn’t already dire enough, she sensed a rapidly-approaching chakra signature about a mile out.

Cursing, Sakura healed as much as she could of her leg, then swiped a blue-glowing hand over the very top of her thigh, numbing the nerves. The pain receded, but the jutsu did nothing to soften the grotesque way in which her leg hung from her hip when she stood.

Sakura clutched Chōjūrō’s hand, moving one of her own to his shoulder to keep her balance on her good leg. She tried to protest again, tried to get away and convince him to leave her, but the bluenette beat her to it, wrapping his hand around the top of her left thigh and the other arm around her waist before he hoisted her up. He pulled her up much like one would a toddler, her chest to his shoulder and his forearm supporting the backs of her thighs, his hand wrapping around her hip. Instinctively, Sakura’s left leg went to wrap around his back while her arms wound around Chōjūrō’s neck; her right leg hung limply, occasionally brushing the outside of the bluenette’s left thigh.

“H-hold on.” And then Chōjūrō jumped, the moment his feet impacted the next branch jarring Sakura to the core, but she saw the efficiency of the position: Chōjūrō could run undisturbed while she had eyes on the situation behind them and could, at a stretch, go through handsigns and throw weapons at their pursuers.

Nevertheless, their survival depended on how long Chōjūrō could keep up this pace without tiring.

And then, all such thoughts were forced out of Sakura’s mind because the first shinobi had caught up to them. 

* * *

 

“Dodge left!” Sakura barked and felt Chōjūrō obey and move them out of the way moments before a barrage of kunai impacted the branch they had been standing on. Ripping her own pouch off her thigh, Sakura dug out three kunai with explosive tags wrapped around the handles and launched them at their pursuer. He dodged the knives, but the resulting explosion was enough to force him to look away from them and gave Sakura enough time to call up the Hell Viewing technique followed by the Chameleon jutsu. She saw the exact moment the illusion took hold and the shinobi slowed down, and she took full advantage of that window to drop another explosive kunai on the branch Chōjūrō pushed off of. Then, she waited until their pursuer shook off the genjutsu and sped up again, his leap taking him right over the branch she’d dropped the exploding tag on.

A trickle of chakra later and the masked nin was swallowed up by the explosion.

 

Sakura sighed, slumping over Chōjūrō’s shoulder. _Four down._

Suddenly, Sakura felt water trickle down her back, and looked up, startled. It seemed that while she’d been dealing with their pursuer, Chōjūrō had crossed the border between Land of Rivers and Amegakure, and the permanent rain that was the trademark of the small country made Sakura shiver.

 

“I-I thought it c-could hide our scents.” Chōjūrō murmured, though his breath was ragged. “Though I d-don’t know where to go n-next.”

 

Sakura felt the desire to cry come back full-force, but she tamped it down; tears wouldn’t help. Instead, she called up her mental map of the shinobi nations and tried to give a considered answer. “They’ll probably expect us to try to cross into the Land of Fire as soon as possible. Going east might give us the element of surprise, though it’s further from Konoha or Kiri. I think Ao and Shikamaru went west. Splitting them up even further might be worth a try.”

 

“But w-what if… something happens?”

 

The rosette knew what he meant to say; _what if we get stuck? What if your leg gets worse? What if one of us gets killed? What if they catch up?_

She didn’t know.

 

But in the deepest, most childishly innocent corner of her mind, a small voice whispered; _Genma will come._

* * *

They ran along the border, waiting till the scenery changed from the rainy barren wasteland to the mountains and caves typical of Hidden Stone. Finally, over a day after they split off from Ao and Shikamaru, Sakura convinced Chōjūrō to take a rest in one of the caves along the border between Ame and Hidden Stone. The barren wasteland along the border had given way to a forest and a mountain range which separated the two nations, and Sakura intended to take full advantage of the shelter provided by the natural caves.

 

Once Chōjūrō had scaled the six metres necessary to get into the cave, Sakura slid off of him and caught herself using the rock wall, watching as the swordsman staggered deeper into the cave and promptly collapsed, curling in on himself and falling asleep almost immediately.

 

The guilt at using Chōjūrō as her transport came back tenfold, but Sakura fought it off along with the bone-deep weariness that came from spending a day in a state of high-alert. Absently, she wondered how long it had been since she’d last slept – 30 hours? 36? She didn’t know.

 

But instead of dwelling on the sheer hopelessness of their situation, she leant her back against the cave’s wall and set about weaving a Double False Surroundings genjutsu, opting for subtle misdirection instead of any drastic changes. Then, just because paranoia was a shinobi’s best friend, she layered a Camouflage illusion over the entry to the cave and promptly created two Earth Clones, sending them out to scout the forest for food and their pursuers.

 

Finally, Sakura dug through her pack and pulled out a blanket and a rations bar. Using the wall as her crutch, she hopped deeper into the cave and stopped by Chōjūrō’s still form, draping the blanket over him and dropping the rations bar by his head. Then, she retraced her way back to the mouth of the cave and slumped onto one of the flatter rocks, settling into as comfortable a position as she could manage and prepared to keep watch.

 

Sakura could feel the steady drain on her chakra from the two illusions and the clones she sent out into the forest, but she owed Chōjūrō the break. She hadn’t even been the one running and she felt exhausted – truly, it was a wonder the bluenette had held out as long as he had before collapsing. Eventually, when her heartbeat settled and the rain lulled her into a deeper calm than she’d felt in the last twenty-four hours, Sakura chanced another look at her leg. She didn’t bother connecting up the nerves – judging by the bruising, the redness around the wounds, and the pus slowly leaking out of and staining the remnants of her pant leg an ugly yellowish-white, the pain she’d feel upon reconnecting the nerves would no doubt knock her out. Still, there were some things she _could_ do.

 

And so Sakura spent over an hour knitting up the tissue, fighting off the infection, swallowing down antibiotics, smearing what she couldn’t heal with antibiotic ointment and wrapping it in whatever bandages she could find in her pouch. When she was done, Sakura felt so emotionally and physically drained she would’ve given anything to switch places with Chōjūrō and take a quick nap. But she couldn’t, not yet, especially not considering-

 

Considering that someone just dispelled her clone.

 

Dread pooling in her stomach, Sakura grabbed a kunai and triple-checked her illusions were still in place. She held her breath and stifled her chakra when the feedback from her dispelled clone showed a group of five of the masked shinobi about three miles west from the cave they were hidden in. If her initial assessment had been correct, that still left about two to four shinobi unaccounted for, unless some of those who had initially pursued her and Chōjūrō turned back to go after Ao and Shikamaru.

 

She waited with baited breath until she was able to sense their chakra, and sure enough, about ten minutes later, four shinobi shot out of the forest in front of the cave. But they barrelled on, the illusion she’d placed on their hiding spot holding firm. Just as Sakura was about to crumble with relief, the fifth figure came out, considerably slower. He was still a fair distance away from her, a good seventy odd metres, but Sakura saw the moment he stiffened, and his eerily masked face turned right in her direction. Frantically checking her genjutsu and coming up with the same result – it was still there, still sapping at her chakra – Sakura came to the startling realisation that while her chakra was smothered and her breathing was intentionally quiet, Chōjūrō’s chakra was buzzing steadily in his sleep, free from its restriction.

 

The urge to cry in frustration nearly won out this time. But instead, Sakura was forced to watch as the masked-nin came closer and closer to the cave, his head tilted like a dog might. Sakura’s mind was a frantic disarray of possibilities, hastily crafted and immediately discarded plans, all the while watching with baited breath as the nin got closer to their hiding place.

 

Then, mind made up, Sakura dismissed her second clone, revelling in the rush of chakra, small as it might have been, before she sent her chakra underground. She got the idea from watching Shikamaru’s shadow move across the ground, and now she finally had the chance to try it. Her chakra moved through the ground uninhibited, and even though the drain on her coils was enough to make Sakura worry, she barrelled on. When the masked-nin was about twenty metres away from where she sat and her chakra was carefully pooled underneath his feet, Sakura flashed through the two seals for the highest-ranked elemental ninjutsu she knew and prayed.

 

_Earth Release: Swamp of the Underworld!_

Before her eyes, the chakra pool she’d formed under the nin’s feet turned into chakra-infused mud and she watched as the shinobi flailed for a moment before he sank, the mud ensnaring his arms and legs and not stopping until only his head was sticking out. Cancelling the jutsu, Sakura let the mud harden back into rock and slowly got to her feet. Approaching the edge of the cave, Sakura let herself drop the twenty feet to the ground, reinforcing her left leg with chakra but still feeling the way the impact jarred her knee and hip, small shockwaves of pain radiating up her spine. She hopped over to the incapacitated shinobi, dignity the last thing of her mind as she felt his surprise at her appearance.

_He won’t live long enough to report it anyhow._

“I don’t know why you’re after us.” She rasped when she was less than a metre away. “I also doubt you’d willingly tell me. That is the only reason you’re still alive.” And then calling up the last vestiges of her chakra, Sakura bent down and pressed the palm of her hand to the man’s head.

 

Immediately, her mindscape was assaulted with images: a room, deep underground judging by the lack of natural lighting, with cement walls and dozens of black-clothed figures, with a blurred out man speaking unintelligible words over them. A drab room that looked more like a prison cell than a bedroom, with four bunk-beds each. A group in the forest, none of the members wearing a mask Sakura recognised, all masks porcelain with black-painted animal features but lacking the Konoha standard colourful additions denoting the animal. Twenty four people waiting in a clearing. Sakura’s own face as she came face to face with the suicide bomber. The others hiding underground before splitting the platoon into four squads, two following Ao’s shunshin and two going after her and Chōjūrō in the wake of the explosion. Four trackers, two from each of the squads, splitting off from the rest and racing ahead, never coming back. Their bodies that were left behind with barely a second-glance when the rest of the group passed by them. Three others staying behind, running slower but covering their backs in case the two they were chasing doubled back. The same blurred out man, a whip in his hand-!

 

Sakura was forced out of the enemy’s mind with a gasp, then promptly shoved a senbon through his mask and into his eye, not stopping until all six inches of the needle disappeared in the nin’s skull and he slumped over, dead.

 

Something had _blocked her_. Had _kicked her out_ when she got onto the last memory.

But that was a worry for another time – they needed to move, and fast.

 

Sakura shunshined back into the cave, opting for speed rather than chakra conservation, and paused. Chōjūrō had had three hours’ sleep. She’d had none. Forty hours awake wasn’t doing her any favours in regards to alertness, but she had little choice in the matter; they could either stay in the cave and take their chances with the incoming three, or push on now and try to get further into Hidden Stone where the ANBU would hopefully not look for them and hide there. The decision was taken out of her hands when Chōjūrō stirred, a single dark eye sliding open and gazing at her in confusion.

 

“S-Sakura? Is everything alright?” debating whether to drop the news on the teen or not, Sakura sighed and sat down.

 

“We have a problem.”

 

Chōjūrō stiffened, snapping to attention and sitting up, casting a slightly surprised glance at the blanket that slid off his shoulders and picking up the ration bar that Sakura had dropped by his head hours previous. Sakura told him what had transpired while he’d slept, pointed at the still buried ANBU outside, and explained what had caused her dilemma. When she was done, Chōjūrō strolled over to her and helped her up.

 

“You should sleep. I-I’ll keep watch this time.” He sent a glance at the sky, his lips quirking up ever so slightly when he gazed at the red-tinted sunset. “W-We can move again once the s-sun rises.”

 

Sakura tried to protest, _would’ve_ protested, but quicker than she could react, Chōjūrō struck out and hit the back of her neck. The rosette managed one last, surprised gasp before everything went black and she slumped into the bluenette’s waiting arms, unconscious.

* * *

Shikamaru _cursed._

 

Ugly and vicious and everything that his mother would’ve nagged at him for and his dad would’ve slapped him upside the head had he heard.

 

But it was _justified_.

 

He’d just stabbed the last of the ANBU on their tail, the Konohagakure Gates in sight, but it wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ be as simple as just going back home, having a shower and forgetting about the past forty hours, of course not, because it turned out that _Ao had the fucking Byakugan._

 

And the gate guards, who had so helpfully left their post to help him and the Mist-nin fight off the last two of the attackers, had gotten a perfect view of the bulging veins and clearly transplanted kekkei genkai, and were now saying Ao was under arrest. Shikamaru was not fond of the man by any stretch of the imagination, but he had saved his life. The moment the first wave of six masked shinobi descended upon them – and Shikamaru knew the jounin had sensed them, because two went down before they even managed to land properly – the veins were clear and tell-tale, and Shikamaru had a gut feeling as to what lay beneath they eyepatch even before it was ripped off by one of the ANBU on their tail who had somehow gotten close enough to do so.

 

Kekkei genkai theft was bad, that was undeniable.

 

The treaty with Kumogakure back when Shikamaru had still been a toddler had almost fallen through because of an attempted bloodline theft.

Still, Ao had _saved his life_ , and it seemed like the gate guards had forgotten about that.

 

“You, Nara, go report to the Hokage about what happened. We’ll take him to T&I.” one of the guards barked, and Shikamaru made the most spontaneous decision of his life.

 

“No.” he denied, and that, at least, was enough to get them to stop, and the Mist jounin they had promptly stuck a paralysing seal on and were currently holding up raised his eyes and glared up at him suspiciously. “The Nara Clan will represent him.”

 

It was clear both of the guards knew what that meant – Ao wouldn’t be tried as a missing-nin or the way most shinobi charged with dojutsu theft would be, but as a member of a Clan who had committed a crime. One of the guards scowled at him.

 

“You’ll be smearing your Clan’s name when you lose.” He spat, but made no move to take Ao away.

 

And Shikamaru knew it. He knew it would create controversy. He knew it would divide the Village. But if the Nara Clan represented Ao, then the Yamanaka and Akimichi Clans would follow suit. The Inuzuka might be swayed, and if they are, the Aburame might be too. The only real opponent would be the Hyuuga Clan. Once upon a time, Shikamaru wouldn’t have even attempted to prevent a death sentence – if the united force of the Uchiha and Hyuuga had called for it, nothing short of a swift death and immediate destruction of the Konoha-Kiri treaty would have sufficed.

 

But now, with none of the Uchiha Clan left in the Village, and the Hyuuga finall _y_ hearing some backlash about their antiquated ways after Neji’s speech at the Chunin Exams, the political scene was different.

 

So Shikamaru squared his shoulders, ignored the worry in his gut at Sakura’s whereabouts, ignored the bone-deep exhaustion he felt at not having slept in over forty hours, and stood as tall as his 153 centimetres allowed him. _“_ _The Nara Clan will represent him._ _”_

The surprised look in Ao’s eyes was almost worth the hell that followed.

* * *

Sakura came to when the sun was just peeking over the horizon, and she quickly became aware of two truths: A) Chōjūrō looked adorable where he was dozing by the mouth of the cave, curled up and looking like a little lost boy instead of the gangly jounin he was. And B) the first layer of her genjutsu had just been broken.

 

She snapped awake when that realisation settled in and sat up, launching a senbon at the bluenette to wake him. She pointed at the forest outside when the teen shot up and threw her a confused glare, and saw the moment Chōjūrō registered why she’d woken him; two masked shinobi were circling outside the cave while a third knelt by his buried comrade, and Sakura realised she had forgotten to tell Chōjūrō to get rid of the body.

 

_Goddamnit._

 

She exchanged a look with the swordsman – they had two options: stay in the cave and hope they won’t be discovered, or go out there and fight. Or rather, send Chōjūrō out to fight as Sakura would only get in the way with her injury.

 

Sakura saw the light in Chōjūrō’s eyes change, saw him reach into a pocket to pull out a familiar-looking scroll, and just like that, she knew what decision he’d arrived at.

_Fight._

She hobbled over and stuffed five seal tags into the teen’s hand. “Knock-out tags.” She mouthed, then demonstrated the use by sticking one to Chōjūrō’s forehead. “You stick, I activate.”

 

Chōjūrō nodded, unsealed Hiramekarei, squared his shoulders and jumped out of the cave. After that, it was a melee.

 

A massive chakra construct surrounded Chōjūrō’s sword, giving it an appearance more like a longsword than its usual shape and more than tripling its reach. One of the ANBU was decapitated almost immediately, his head falling to the ground with a dull thud, his body following suit. But then, as the chakra construct cancelled and Chōjūrō went back to normal kenjutsu, weird black-and-white creatures suddenly surrounded him and Sakura tensed.

 

They weren’t summons – their shape was cartoonish and their movements too jerky to be natural. What then–?

_Oh, no._

Sakura had forgotten about the ANBU that knelt by his buried comrade’s head, and now she was facing the consequences as she watched him paint expertly on a scroll and two more creatures burst from the paper.

 

A technique that animated drawings into offensive tools, then? Sakura hadn’t ever heard of such a thing, but it was the only viable explanation. It soon became clear that the creatures could be dispelled easily, but they could also hurt – Chōjūrō’s bleeding arm where one of the beasts had sunk its teeth before being struck with a kunai was proof enough. Plus, the beasts detracted from the focus Chōjūrō should’ve been paying the katana-wielding ninja, and it cost him a long gash down his ribs.

 

Sakura became aware of one, undeniable truth: _the artist had to go._

Palming a tag she’d created back in Suna but hadn’t yet had the chance to test, Sakura called up three illusions and layered them hastily over the painter. The first layer, Hazy genjutsu, was dispelled right as Sakura finished going through the seals for a shunshin. The second, Descending Hell technique was also quickly brushed off, but Sakura was already close enough to reach over and slap a makeshift chakra draining seal on the ANBU’s chest, and activated it right as the nin tripped into the third layer, the Hell Viewing technique.

 

She could tell almost immediately that it hadn’t worked as planned – the chakra hadn’t been transferred into Sakura, but it was stored in the tag itself. It also hadn’t killed him – there was a slight, barely-there trickle of chakra left in his coils, but it was enough to keep him alive. Unconscious and trapped in a genjutsu he couldn’t get out of, but alive nonetheless. Sakura turned around, ready to help, and was caught by Chōjūrō when she accidentally put her broken leg down and staggered. Wincing, but sending the bluenette a grateful smile, she glanced at his downed opponent – her knock-out tag stuck out like a brand on his unmasked forehead, but what struck Sakura more was the fact that his torso lay a good five metres away from his lower body, the blood forming a macabre mini-lake around him.

 

Sakura scoffed, amused despite herself, and deep down she reckoned something was very wrong if the sight of gore made her laugh instead of vomit. “What is it with you and dismemberment? I thought we were going for subtle.”

 

Chōjūrō gawked. “D-Did you just-! Sakura, y-you can’t joke i-in this kind of situation!” and his absolutely aghast tone was enough to make Sakura let out a snort.

 

“Honestly, Chōjūrō? It’s either I laugh, or I cry. The choice is yours.” The bluenette looked appropriately chastised, and mumbled an apology, but Sakura just patted his arm. “It’s alright. But I think we should keep moving.”

 

He didn’t try to protest this time, and Sakura easily resumed her position in Chōjūrō’s arms. Then, they set off over the mountain range and into Hidden Stone, both aching, stressed and exhausted beyond belief despite the ten hours break.

 

But unlike the bodies they were leaving behind, they were alive, and Sakura clung to that thought with all her strength.

 

The positive attitude lasted until they realised it had been over eighty hours since they’d last eaten a proper meal, and almost equally as much since they’d drank more than a mouthful of water at a time. But Hidden Stone provided no such comforts as a lake or a forest to hunt food in, and soon enough, their condition began deteriorating. By the time the fourth day on their own rolled around, Sakura’s stomach was rumbling almost constantly and Chōjūrō’s skin had turned even paler than usual, the bags under his eyes a painful black, and he was staggering with every other step, clearly dehydrated.

 

Until Sakura had enough.

 

“We’ve passed by civilian villages. We need to go into one. Find something – food, water, bandages, whatever – we can’t keep going like this.” She announced at last, sliding down Chōjūrō’s chest so she could stand on her own and pin him with a glare.

 

But the bluenette raised a valid point then; _what would happen to her?_

Sakura feared the same, but she couldn’t in good faith make Chōjūrō continue running like they had been. So she reinforced her voice with bravado she didn’t feel and crossed her arms over her chest. “I have my genjutsu. My chakra is much more restored than yours – I can do maybe three elemental techniques if need be. You, however, will keel over if you don’t eat or drink something, and soon. Go!”

 

And so Chōjūrō went, the closest civilian village ten miles away from the cave he left her in, this one a good fifty metres above ground, made of what she tentatively labelled as shale and schist as opposed to the other’s rouge argillite. As Sakura settled down, the genjutsu she had woven to protect their location holding steady, she wondered how Ao and Shikamaru were doing. Had they reached Konoha? Did they manage to handle their pursuers? Were they safe, were they hurt?

 

Not knowing pained her.

 

When Chōjūrō returned five hours later, his bag filled with food that wasn’t a rations bar, twelve bottles of water and fresh bandages, Sakura almost wept with joy. Safe in the knowledge that it was very unlikely anyone would find them here, fed and no longer dehydrated, they chatted the evening away till they both drifted off, curling into each other under the blanket to wade off the chill of the night.

 

Spirits restored, even if only temporarily, sleep claimed them quickly.

* * *

The news spread around the Village like wildfire.

_“What is that boy doing, defending bloodline thieves?”_

_“He saved his life!”_

_“They’re our allies!”_

_“So was Suna, and look how that turned out with the Invasion!”_

_“The Hokage is involved, and the Mizukage sent some of her people over to help with the situation – they’re cooperative.”_

_“For now!”_

_“The Hyuuga are willing to take the death penalty off the table if the eye is returned-!”_

_“That’ll never happen and you know it. Kiri-nin are thieves!”_

_“It was during a_ _war_ _!”_

But to Genma, it was background noise. The problem, for him, and what had ended in him being put on the equivalent of house-arrest, was the slightly less common news;

_“Unknown assailants… an entire platoon… two squads after two teenagers… no search party.”_

_“Diplomats, aren’t they?”_

_“One of ours and one of Kiri.”_

_“The Kiri kid is the last one of the Seven who’s loyal to the Village as well.”_

_“Why is there no search party?”_

_“Forces are still stretched thin. Not to mention that their chances of survival are slim at best.”_

_“A chunin and recently promoted jounin against a dozen foreign ANBU? Yeah, no wonder.”_

He found out by way of the Twins, who had both come barging into his house with the words – “Sakura-chan’s MIA!”

 

Genma had ran to T&I like the devil himself was on his heels, and Anko’s grim face was the last nail in the coffin. When Tsunade came out of the interrogation room in which Ao was being kept, Shikamaru standing firm by his side, Genma had outright demanded to be on the search party.

 

The cheek in which he’d been slapped still stung when he thought about it. As did the words that followed; “ _You think I wouldn’t have sent a retrieval party if I could? How many shinobi do you think I can sacrifice to go on a jolly around the Nations? The trackers we have are all scattered and even Nara doesn’t know where she is!”_

And before Genma could protest that he didn’t need a team, he just needed his goddamn partner back, Tsunade added, _“_ _And don’t even think about leaving by yourself. All that’ll do is lower their chances even more.”_

Not like Genma was going to listen. Tsunade may be Hokage, but he had a chunin to find. He’d spent the following three days checking if any of the trackers he knew by name were available, and grit his teeth with every one that came back negative. He grudgingly settled back to wait, bag already packed and ready to leave at any moment.

 

But that was before he saw Shikamaru.

 

It seemed like the teen was permanently fluttering between Ao’s cell in T&I and the Hokage’s Office. Genma knew by way of Shikaku, who hadn’t been his usual self since the younger Nara got back to the Village, worried and unable to see his son for longer than five minutes at a time. Some said the kid hadn’t even had a chance to properly go home.

 

So when Genma saw him, he nearly didn’t recognise him – the teen was pale, his usual tan replaced with sallow skin, his face was drawn, his eyes red and adorned with prominent bags, and grim frown lines set in the corners of his eyes. He looked like he’d aged a decade. Or like he hadn’t slept in a week, which Genma reckoned was precisely what happened.

 

But when the Nara spotted him, some light returned to his eyes ad he hurried over to the tokujo’s side. “You need to go after Sakura.” Were the words he opened with, more lively and urgent than Genma ever recalled the kid sounding before. “They’re keeping me here or else I’d go myself, but if I leave, they’ll give Ao over to the Hyuuga and you know what they’ll do, protocol be damned.”

 

Genma did know. He heard the whispers, the rumours of what it had to have taken to successfully implant a functioning Byakugan; murder a Main House member or transplant the eye of a Branch member while the latter was still alive.

 

“The Hokage won’t give me a tracker, and I’m not good enough by myself to track her for such a distance.” Genma replied, and tried not to think of how much it pained him to say it (it burnt like acid, and he recalled how Sakura hadn’t needed a tracker when she went after him, hadn’t needed the Hokage’s approval, hadn’t even asked for it and he felt like a coward-!). For the first time, he truly entertained the thought of mastering the Hiraishin for the sole purpose of planting a seal on Sakura, like Minato had done on Kushina, just to avoid similar situations in the future.

 

But then, Shikamaru, in a sentence that cemented his status as a genius even amongst the Nara, pointed out; “Didn’t her old sensei have ninken?”

 

Genma was running before the teen had even finished speaking.

* * *

“Hatake!” he pounded on the door, seriously considering smacking himself for his absolute stupidity.

_Of course Hatake has ninken. Of course. How could I have-!_

 

The door opened, and he caught himself moments before his fist connected with the Copy-Nin’s face. “Shiranui? How do you know where I live?” came the suspicious question, and Genma nearly throttled the man. Now is not the time!

 

“Gai.” He snapped, and the minute widening of Kakashi’s eye told him that was explanation enough. “But that’s not the point. Sakura’s MIA and I need your tracking skills.” The words came out in one barely intelligible breath, but he knew the other understood judging by the fact that the visible part of Kakashi’s face visible paled considerably.

 

“Since when?” the jounin forced out, and Genma was surprised to hear the same fear in his voice he was sure was in his own.

 

“Nara says they split up a week ago, but he doesn’t know their exact location. They had a dozen foreign ANBU after each pair.” He related, keeping his voice carefully blank and pointedly ignoring the way his hand shook when he finally lowered it from beside Kakashi’s face.

_This wasn’t meant to happen._

 

Kakashi just nodded, looking a mix of determined and resigned. “Scent?”

 

At that, Genma produced the horrendous pink dinosaur he’d snagged from Sakura’s bed, knowing that it was the only item that had the slightest chance of still retaining the rosette’s scent even after a month of absence. He quietly looked away when Kakashi tugged down his mask and sniffed the stuffed toy. The tokujo nearly jumped when the taller man slapped his hand against the wall of his apartment and three dogs appeared from a cloud of smoke.

 

“Guruko, Pakkun, Uhei; here,” he tossed the toy to the dogs, his mask already back up when Genma turned around to watch the odd scene.

 

“And no greeting, Kakashi?” the smallest of the summons, a gruff-voiced pug, complained. “I thought we’ve had a talk or twenty about manners over the years. What’s this for, though?”

 

Despite how he usually would’ve reacted at the great Copy Ninja Kakashi getting scolded by his own summon a tenth of his size, Genma couldn’t even bring himself to smile at the absurd situation. He was too stressed, too worried, so he just started tapping out an erratic rhythm with his fingernails on the doorframe while he waited for Hatake to sort out his summons.

 

“My old student is missing.” Was Hatake’s gruff reply, and immediately, the summons quietened. “Pakkun, you have the best nose, but we don’t know her exact location, hence Uhei and Guruko come too.” He turned to Genma, “Anything to add?”

 

Surprised at being addressed, Genma took a moment to gather himself before he added, “If I know the kid at all, she’ll have gone the opposite way from the others, so north-west. But that could be anywhere between Land of Wind and Ame, Kusa, or Land of Stone. To be honest, I didn’t think you’d even agree to this, so right now I’m just hoping your summons’ll manage to pick up a trail along the way.”

 

He got two barks from the others and an indignant glower from the tiny pug for his explanation.

 

“Pup,” the pug began self-righteously, “we are _Kakashi’s ninken_ _._ We _will_ pick up a trail.”

And so they set off.

* * *

Tsunade sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration as she cancelled the jutsu on Hiruzen-sensei’s old crystal ball, Shiranui and Hatake’s backs fading into the purple nothingness of the glass.

 

“Fox,” she ordered tiredly, not even bothering to open her eyes when a figure appeared before her desk. “go after them. I’m too tired to even be mad, just make sure my best jounin and assassin don’t kill themselves with this.”

 

“Yes, Hokage-sama.” And with those words, the kunoichi was gone, and Tsunade inwardly cursed Shiranui for worsening her headache.

 

Then again, she’d known Haruno and Shiranui would rip the world apart for each other if given the chance, so why was she even surprised?

* * *

Two days passed since they set out from Konoha. Just outside the borders, they were joined by Fox, but the kunoichi stayed silent and took rareguard, a fact Kakashi was grateful for because he doubted Shiranui even _considered_ their own safety, stuck as he was on getting to Sakura.

Still, Kakashi had ordered a small break on the border between the Land of Fire and the Land of Rivers to take a quick nap and eat, knowing the tokujo wouldn’t have bothered to stop even if he was falling over with exhaustion. Two hours break, then they were running again.

Although they ran at a breakneck pace, Kakashi, try as he might, couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at the tokujo who’d roped him into this impromptu mission in the first place, inwardly wondering when the other would ease up.

But Genma didn’t look like he planned to slow down anytime soon and, more importantly – and, perhaps, worryingly – he didn’t look like his usual self either, or what Kakashi had come to expect of the man. Instead, he was pale, drawn, and his eyes kept flickering from tree to tree, regardless of the fact that Kakashi’s ninken said the trail was far from dead, even if it had gone cold when they stepped into Ame.

(a fact which Pakkun had commended, clearly not reading the atmosphere at all – “Your pup’s got her head on right; if she was trying to lose pursuers, Ame is the place to go.”).

The tokujo also had yet to speak since the brusque report he gave him when he almost broke into his apartment to drag him on this mad goose-chase two days ago.

Then, perhaps most worryingly of all, there were the corpses. Even when they were still in the Land of Rivers, they came across two bodies. Later, a decapitated kunoichi. Then, a few miles on, an area that looked like it had been treated to a serious explosion with an absolutely _incinerated_ body left behind. And then, in Ame, a curious scene in a forest, three bodies, one decapitated, one dismembered, one buried from the neck down with a senbon sticking out of his eye (Kakashi didn’t miss the slight upwards twitch of Genma’s lip when he saw the small needle and his stomach did a weird twist at the _fondness_ in the brunet’s gaze, even with the current situation). And a last body, a weird tag on the shinobi’s chest and his chakra weirdly stifled. 

That was when Genma smirked, vicious and victorious, and cheerfully told him and Fox that the tagged nin was still very much alive, and, if the way his remaining chakra was fluctuating, he was currently under a genjutsu which he couldn’t get out of.

(Kakashi hadn’t even noticed the kid still had chakra. It took a moment after it had been pointed out to notice, and even longer to realise that it really was fluctuating and what it entailed. He cast a subtle glance at the tokujo, who was arguing with Fox over the pros and cons of taking the masked nin back into the Village now or powering onwards to find Sakura and the Mist-nin, and, not for the first time, _wondered_.)

Eventually, they decided to send Fox back to the Village with the tagged-nin, while Kakashi and Genma continued on – chance for interrogation, after all, was too dear to pass up, but with every moment they delayed, the chance of finding Sakura alive lowered.

Once they split up, Kakashi let a few hours pass before he spoke up again.  

“We ran past seven bodies already. Are you not worried that we may be too late?” he asked bluntly, though he was inwardly quite curious. Genma seemed to relax after they sent Fox back with the body, and Kakashi had no idea why – after all, _Sakura_ and _over a week in the wilderness evading pursuit_ did not seem like a favourable scenario in his opinion.

But Genma, despite never slowing his pace nor ceasing the flickering of his eyes from left to right, actually snorted. “The tag on the kid we sent Yugao back with? That was the first seal Sakura and I ever talked about. A chakra-draining seal. The fact that your summons say those bodies were about five days old only assures me of the fact that she’s alive. They’re _both_ alive.”

The Copy-Nin did a double-take at that. That wasn’t blind optimism, or the tone of a man clinging to the last dregs of hope. It was the voice of someone confident in what he was saying, and Kakashi briefly wondered how the tokujo could have had such conviction in his voice but still such a tremor in his hands, such worry in his gaze. How he could have such faith in a girl less than half his age.

“If you say so.” He settled on at last, instead of voicing his thoughts.

“I do.”

And that was that.                                           

* * *

 Ten days.

 

Ten days of using Chōjūrō as her personal carriage. Ten days of a constant state of vigilance, a painful sort of alertness that ended in exhaustion and paranoia.

 

(Sakura was considerably more trigger-happy the more time passed, and a deer, a rabbit, and a Hidden Stone shinobi had already payed for startling her. Permanently so.)

 

But more than that, despite the fact that they were still alive, Sakura only grew more worried with every day that passed. They started having to ration food even with everything Chōjūrō managed to bring from the civilian Village, and their chakra was replenishing at a much slower rate. Sleep escaped them, both too wound up to ever truly relax. Sakura had long since ran out of antibiotics, and all her acetaminophen went to bringing down Chōjūrō’s fever, so she had none for herself when the infection in her leg started making her feverish.

 

The only upside Sakura could see was that they weren’t hallucinating yet.

 

They tried talking to each other, but headaches and delirium proved too much to keep a conversation going for longer than a few minutes at a time. All Sakura knew was that Chōjūrō was hers and everyone else was enemy. That was the one distinction her brain refused to let go off.

 

Her and Chōjūrō were currently in the most west part of Hidden Stone, right by the border that separated the country from the unexplored wastelands where crops refused to grow and even ninja avoided running across. The cave they were in (and Sakura had lost count of how many they had been in – she couldn’t find a comfortable position, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t relax. All the rock provided was shelter from the unforgiving sun) was protected by the most vicious genjutsu the rosette could come up with, her mind too high-strung and her paranoia a little too close to the surface to contend with a simple False Surroundings genjutsu anymore.

 

Then, on the eleventh day, right when Sakura was limping around and packing up and Chōjūrō was snuffing the fire, she heard voices.

 

_“-told you she was aiming for genjutsu mistress, what the fuck were you expecting?”_

_“_ _Not that._ _”_

And then, two people climbed into the cave, the taller of whom saw Sakura and rushed forward, right at her.

 

The rosette exchanged one look with Chōjūrō, knowing the moment they had been dreading had finally come, and noted the same viciousness on the bluenette’s face she was feeling.

 

Then, they _sprung_ _._

* * *

 

After four days of chasing Kakashi’s summons across the Shinobi Nations, the two jounin finally came to a stop by the very edge of Stone’s territory, and sent matching confused looks at Pakkun.

 

The nin-dog raised an eyebrow and pointed a paw up at the rock face, “The trail ends here.”

 

Kakashi’s first thought when he looked up was a discomfiting, _the Wastelands are on the other side of this mountain range._ His second, _there’s nothing here._

By his side, Genma frowned and closed his eyes. When he opened them, there was satisfaction in his gaze, and more than a little determination. “They’re there. Sakura and the kid. Let’s go.”

 

Although he was tempted to, Kakashi didn’t ask how the tokujo knew that. He kept his mouth shut and followed. At least until he tripped head-first into an illusion so vicious and gory and intricate he had to push up his hitai-ate and use his Sharingan to make sure he had successfully broken all the layers.

 

(he hadn’t.)

 

When he met Genma’s eyes, both of them sticking to the side of the mountain with chakra in their feet, the tokujo looked perturbed, but somehow, despite how very out-of-place it looked, _proud_. Wordlessly, the brunet pointed up, and Kakashi followed his gaze.

 

A cave that most certainly wasn’t there before was now visible in the rock face, as well as a distantly familiar chakra signature and the same scent as the stuffed toy.

 

“That illusion- Sakura?” Kakashi managed to say, hating how his voice halted half way through.

 

Genma nodded with a scowl. “I told you she was aiming for genjutsu mistress, what the fuck were you expecting?”

 

With a shake of his head, Kakashi just murmured a quiet, but vicious “ _Not that._ ”

 

And then, they were climbing into the cave. 

* * *

 

The two kids they found in the cave were simultaneously so far from what they had expected, and exactly what they had been dreading. The taller of the two, who Kakashi immediately identified as the swordsman, was clutching a sword almost twice his size and using it like a mimicry of a crutch. His skin was pale, his eyes were bruised, his lips were chapped with dehydration, and his body was littered with small cuts, bruises and grazes, and his outfit was flecked with blood.

 

His pupils were also dilated with delirium, and a further inspection revealed rosy cheeks on a sickly-pale face and shivers raking his frame. _Fever._

After the two seconds it took Kakashi to take the bluenette in, his attention shifted onto the kunoichi.

 

_Sakura._

Her pink hair was matted with grime and blood, her face pale and sallow like the swordsman’s, her eyes too were wide and fever-bright, and her hands were shaking. But worst of all was her leg, her calve swathed in bandages that were soaked through with blood and sweat and pus, and her thigh visibly bent at an odd angle even under the cover of her pants’ leg, and Kakashi knew without a doubt that it was broken.

 

Badly.

 

Perhaps irreparably.

 

(he wondered how she was still standing – the pain had to have been _agonising_ )

Still, the need to get them back to Konoha was as dire as ever, and without thinking, he moved towards Sakura, spreading his arms to pick her up and carry her back if need be.

 

But then, he suddenly tripped, his balance upset when he felt like something had struck the side of his head, and he barely managed to jump out of the way of the massive sword he’d noticed before that struck heavily in the place he’d been standing in mere seconds previous.

 

It seemed as if delirium had only made the two teens more dangerous, and when Kakashi met Sakura’s green eyes, they were vicious and cold, the edge of fever still present but her gaze was focused on eliminating the threat.

 

And he was the threat.

 

But then, Genma stepped in, grabbed the back of Kakashi’s shirt and hauled him to his feet and behind him, batting the swordsman away with a well-placed strike to the temple and meeting Sakura’s eyes with a calm Kakashi himself did not feel.

 

“Sakura.”

 

And Kakashi did a doubletake, then almost rolled his eyes at his partner’s idiocy. The little swordsman hauled himself to his feet, raising his sword to strike again, but then, moments before Kakashi started going through the first sign for chidori, Sakura grabbed the bluenette’s arm.

 

Her eyes never left Genma’s.

 

“Who are you?”

* * *

Genma’s heart ached.

 

He let Kakashi go on ahead, take in the situation and whatever he might want to do while Genma hung back, his eyes trained on his charge, his partner.

 

_Sakura._

A week of knowing she was out there, somewhere, with a dozen of enemies far more skilled and dangerous after her. Three days of utter helplessness, of relying on gossip and heresay. Four days of running through the Shinobi Nations on the hunch of a Nara and the nose of another jounin’s ninken as his only guides. Four days of seeing bodies crop up, of seeing Hatake’s face grow more and more sceptical.

 

For this.

 

The girl that stood before him was so far from the teen he had hugged goodbye over a month and a half ago that he almost didn’t recognise her. He knew, even without needing to look, that her leg was broken – her posture was different. He knew, even from where he stood, that she was burning up and feverish – the flush to her cheeks was not the one that came from happy laughter, nor from the makeup kit she’d once shown him (and promptly smeared ¾ of on his face). And he knew that right then, she didn’t recognise them.

 

So when Sakura started going through the handsigns for the Vertigo genjutsu, Genma wasn’t surprised. When the swordsman jumped up and almost decapitated Hatake, the tokujo bided his time and waited for the opportune moment. And when it came, he stepped in.

 

Sakura’s question of “Who are you?” felt like a knife to the heart, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy.

 

So he smiled and barrelled on. “My name is Shiranui Genma. Genma.” He paused, waited for a spark of recognition. When none came, he carried on. “You’ve been living with me in Konoha for over a year. Your last mission was to Suna, but it went tits up and you’ve had to evade pursuit over the last ten days. But now I’m here, and you can go home. You’re safe. Now c’mon, kid, let’s go home.”

 

There was a moment of silence, of a suspicious frown and a hand trained intently over the flap of her kunai pouch. Seconds ticked by. The swordsman lowered his sword, but did not relax.

 

Slowly, a light that had nothing to do with fever appeared in Sakura’s eyes. “Home?” she murmured, her tone slightly confused. Like she was trying to recall, but was finding it difficult.

 

Genma smiled. “Yeah, kid, home. Burnt pancakes, food fights, fuinjutsu study dates on the sofa. Any of that ring a bell?”

 

He waited, patiently, as another minute passed. Then, the fog cleared, and – “Genma!” a smile lit up Sakura’s face and suddenly she was in his arms, a _shunshin_ so quick the tokujo didn’t even see her make the handsigns and, judging by the way he tensed, neither did Kakashi.

 

The swordsman made a wounded sort of sound in the background and immediately, Sakura was by his side (Genma felt the muscles in her arms flex where they were pressed against his side so he knew she _must’ve_ made the handsigns, she _must’ve_ ).

 

“Chōjūrō, Chōjūrō, it’s alright, I know him, he’s Genma, my guardian, the one I told you about, remember? He’s safe, we can trust him. He’s home.”

 

And with every word that left the rosette’s mouth, the bluenette relaxed, and Genma marvelled at the faith the teen had in Sakura. Finally, Chōjūrō sealed his sword away, but did not step away from his partner.

 

“She can’t run.” He pointed out, voice hoarse and dry from disuse.

 

Slowly, so as not to startle, Genma stepped forward, his hands held up. “I can carry her. You need to rest. If you let him, my partner will carry you.”

 

And then, Kakashi was holding a limp swordsman in his arms and Sakura hissed, a sound so primal and territorial the Copy Nin barely hid a wince. “He was barely conscious. You want him to rest, don’t you?”

 

Genma waited for the pinkette to nod before he stepped closer, and when she turned to him, he gently scooped her up.

 

He and Kakashi set off, not once looking back.

 

In the last moments of consciousness, her temple resting against his clavicle, Sakura murmured something that made his heart swell; “I knew you’d come. I wished for you, and here you are.”

 

Then, she passed out, and Genma ignored the way Kakashi looked away when his eyes watered and the few tears he’d been holding back finally spilled.

  

_They were safe._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like, this chapter was hell to write, and i apologise for any stylistic inconsistencies - like i said, it was hell. and then AO3 decided to paste everything in italics, so i had to go through the whole 15k and edit the heck out of that.  
> PSA: university enterance exams are coming up, so it's likely my updates will get even more sporadic as i prepare for that, but i will try my best to pop out another chapter before mid-May. 
> 
> as for the timeline:  
> July: Graduation, month of D-Ranks with Team 7  
> August: Wave Mission  
> September: library research, getting to know Genma and working with him. The last week of September is the written exam of the Chunin Exams and the Forest of Death  
> October: month of preparation for third stage of Chunin Exams  
> November: ~coma time~ post-Invasion + handful of missions and training with Team 7 while Kakashi is off gallivanting by his lonesome  
> December: Kirigakure diplomatic mission  
> January: fetching Genma after the Sound Four mess him up, month of punishment D-Ranks, going to Tsunade at the end of the month for medic training  
> February: medic training  
> March: medic training, Sakura’s birthday, starting the apprenticeship at T&I at the end of the month  
> April&May: medic training and T&I  
> June: Iwa mission where Tamaki dies and Sakura’s injured. End of medical training, start of training with Genma to be his partner  
> July: ~training~  
> August: Sakura’s first official successful interrogation, assassination mission with Fox and Boar  
> September: Sakura and Shikamaru leave for the Suna diplomatic mission  
> Mid-September to mid-October: Suna mission  
> Mid October: cross-country run with Chojuro while evading foreign ANBU, meanwhile the whole Ao-has-the-Byakugan-wtf is happening in Konoha  
> November: Genma brings her home with Kakashi, hospital stay


	17. Fix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so yeah, this was meant to be a 'short filler chapter before exams'. somehow, it ended up being an 11k filler chapter. smh. 
> 
> well done to everyone who commented: 'danzo u piece of shit', 'goddamn root' or something to a similar extent. made me laugh and you were spot-on. also, for anyone asking: yes, it was Sai in the last chapter. yes, he is very much alive. and no, i have not forgotten about him. the Sai Shitstorm will be addressed in the next chapter which will be considerably more action & drama-filled than this one and will - most likely, but dont hold me to this - come out mid-may to end of june. exams, as i have stated many times before, suck ass. majorly. 
> 
> also, just because it was bugging me - i am not crippling Sakura, and am not planning on it any time soon. if Tsunade managed to heal Lee's pulverized arm and leg, she can heal Sakura. 
> 
> (the pink dinosaur, Shikamaru, Tsunade and T&I will be back next chapter, dontcha worry. this was just bonding, fluff and reunions)

When Sakura came to, she was laying on something that felt as soft as clouds, far softer than the rock she recalled falling asleep on, and she sighed –  


–then promptly shot up, her eyes snapping open. Her world spun and her eyes stung with the brightness of the room but she blinked through the tears and the nausea and tensed, her muscles' protests going ignored. 

  
Chōjūrō wasn't beside her. She couldn't see him.

  
Instead, there were three figures standing by the foot of her bed, their gazes trained upon her. 

  
Sakura pulled her lips back in a snarl. "Where's Chōjūrō?!" She demanded, her voice dry and hoarse but her point crystal clear. She glared at the three people by her bed – _enemies_ , her mind whispered – her gaze flickering from the tallest figure, a man who stood at over six foot and took up most of the space, still somehow dwarfing the equally tall, scarred man beside him and the petite blonde who stood a little apart from the two but who Sakura easily dismissed as a threat. "I said, _what did you do to_ _Chōjūrō_?!" She snarled, her throat burning as her vocal cords strained, but she paid it little heed.   


Sakura was vaguely aware that her chakra was rolling off of her in angry, violent waves, nothing like the precise intent she used to be able to radiate before. She saw the smallest of the figures freeze, her eyes going wide, but the other two remained largely unaffected and Sakura wanted to _scream_. 

 

And then, the door to her room was wrenched open and Chōjūrō hurried through, a paper gown sliding off one shoulder and a hanger with a sack of clear fluid trailing behind him, the wheels squeaking with every step.

 

"Sakura!!" The bluenette called and covered the distance between the door and her bed in three long strides, climbing in beside her and grabbing her hand.

 

"Chōjūrō!" Sakura almost sobbed with relief, gripping the hand holding her own tightly and letting her body slump into the swordsman's arms. "You're here, you're alright."

 

"I'm fine, we're safe, Sakura, we did it! We're in a hospital, we're safe, we're back in Leaf!" The teen babbled and the rosette pried her eyes open, the fog slowly clearing from her mind. 

 

"Safe?" She mumbled hesitantly, looking around, then, "Hospital?" 

 

Slowly, things started making sense. The walls of her room were white, the bedsheets too. The drip Chōjūrō was attached to was an IV and the machine hooked up to her own body was a heart monitor that beeped steadily. Her right leg was encased in a thick white cast and completely immobile, and Sakura couldn’t even feel it.

 

"Y-yeah," the bluenette affirmed, and the return of the stutter made something warm bloom in Sakura's chest. "We're safe."

 

And then, Sakura chanced another glance at the three others in the room with her. The redhead she'd initially tagged as the greatest threat was familiar, as was the raven haired man beside him. The girl–!

 

Sakura's heart ached.

 

"Chouza-sama, Shikaku-sama... Ino." She greeted slowly, eyes flickering from each face. "I'm-!"  _sorry,_ she wanted to say.  _I'm sorry._ But the words wouldn't come, didn't sound genuine. Because truly, she _wasn't_ sorry – in fact, even now, a small part of her mind was screaming at her to eliminate the threat and protect her and Chōjūrō at all cost because Chōjūrō was _hers_ and everyone else was an _enemy._ "I didn't recognise you." She settled on at last. 

 

(She adamantly didn't think of the fact that Ino looked terrified, did not think what her Killing Intent had shown her old friend.)

 

Shikaku waved her off, though his eyes were sharp. "We figured, Sakura-chan."

 

"And the - _sama_ is unnecessary." Chouza added with a smile, his eyes forming little creases that reminded Sakura of someone else (silver Hair, mask, same eye-creasing smile, _resentmentangerbitterness-!_ ) 

 

"How did we-?"  _How did we get here?_ She wanted to ask, but then the memories started flooding in.

 

_Genma._

 

"Where's Genma?" She corrected, changing tracks instantly after the realisation settled in,  only just realising who was missing, who had never been missing before when she'd woken up in hospitals. And she distinctly recalled Genma being the one to find them and bring them back.

 

_Along with... Kakashi? No, that's not possible._

 

To her surprise, Chouza smiled. "I sent Genma-kun home." He admitted, and Sakura snapped to attention. "He was exhausted and he refused to leave your bedside for two days straight so I invoked my powers of old jounin sensei and sent him off. Would you like to see him?" He explained kindly, and Sakura nodded before something stood out to her.

 

"Genma is too stubborn by half to do something when you tell him to, especially when he doesn't want to." She observed bluntly, her gaze momentarily flickering to Shikaku when he smirked. "What did you do?" She accused, and Chouza, instead of being offended, merely laughed heartily.

 

"You know my old student well." He complimented, but Sakura wasn't appeased and it must've shown on his face because the Akimichi capitulated. "I may have threatened that I'd tell my more exuberant student that Genma had been neglecting his wellbeing. It worked like a charm during their genin days and it worked like a charm now."

 

Sakura blinked slowly, taking that in. "Green-jumpsuit-wearing man." She said at last, unable to remember the name.

 

Chouza laughed and even Shikaku snorted, before the Akimichi made to leave. "Yes, it is indeed Gai-kun. I'll go fetch Genma-kun now."

 Once she was alone with the Nara Head and Ino, another realisation settled in and Sakura sat up, pulling out of Chōjūrō’s arms in alarm. “Shikamaru-! Is he alright? Did he and Ao get here safely? Was he injured? Can I see him?” she shot off, only stopping when Shikaku raised his hand in a placating gesture, though Sakura noted a shadow that seemed to pass over the man’s face at the mention of his son.

“Shikamaru is fine. Him and Ao got here a week before you and Chōjūrō -san, though an… issue arose in the meantime, which my son is currently dealing with.” Came the answer, and Sakura narrowed her eyes.

_That sounds awfully evasive._

Just as she was about to demand more precise information, the door to her room opened and Genma came through. Sakura sat up, feeling a smile bloom on her face as she opened her arms, rejoicing when the same smile was reflected by the brunet.

(she barely noticed Chōjūrō slide off the bed and step away, or Shikaku motion to Ino that they should leave. Genma was _here_. She was _safe_. Everything else could wait.)

When Genma finally covered the last scarce metres that separated him from her hospital bed, Sakura didn’t let him settle for anything less than a full-on hug, tugging the tokujo down until he had to sit on her bed or risk losing his balance and sprawling on the floor. She was glad when he chose the former, and scooted over to make room for him to fit. Hospital beds weren’t meant for two people, after all.

She let Genma wrap his arms around her and pull her head to his chest, and did the same, surprised but touched when she felt the breath that left him shake slightly in relief. Sakura squeezed tighter, holding on, using the touch to ground herself, to comfort, to assure herself that everything really was alright now.

Eventually, they pulled away, and Sakura smiled, though it quickly dimmed when she realised Genma was adamantly not meeting her eyes. “Is everything alright?” she asked at last, more than a little puzzled.

“Yeah, it’s fine, don’t worry, I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” Genma replied, and though his smile was genuine, his eyes were trained a good inch to the left of Sakura’s.

“Then why won’t you look me in the eyes?” she replied, feeling when he stiffened slightly and felt sharp tendrils of fear and hurt wrap around her heart and _squeeze._ “And don’t _lie_ to me.” She added, her voice shaking slightly.

That at least seemed to do the trick and Genma’s eyes widened before they finally met hers. What she saw in them was… worrying. There was surprise, worry, but also guilt and… disappointment? “I’m not-!” he began, then sighed, clearly aggravated, and ran a hand through his hair which was, for once, suspiciously free of its bandana. “It’s my fault you’re here, don’t you understand? That you’re in _this_ state.” He gestured vaguely at her torso and legs which were covered by the hospital issue blanket, before he buried his head in his hands.

Sakura blinked a few times, completely thrown, then, she got angry. “Your _fault_?!” she parroted incredulously, swatting Genma upside the head. “Genma, you idiot, it’s _thanks to you_ that I’m here, and it’s _thanks to you_ that I am even alive! I don’t think either of us would’ve been able to keep going much longer if you and Kakashi hadn’t come when you did. So get out of here with this guilty _bullshit!_ ”

Slowly, Genma raised his head to look at her, and the look in his eyes was torn between tentatively hopeful and amused. Then, the hope seemed to solidify and he smirked. “Mind your language.” He chided, but both of them knew it was a weak attempt at lightening the atmosphere than an actual telling off. So Sakura grinned and stuck out her tongue and proceeded to pull the tokujo onto the bed so they were both leaning comfortably against the ridiculously overstuffed pillows.

“But seriously, Gen,” Sakura murmured once they both settled into an almost dozing state, the shortened name slipping out completely against her will but as an apt testament to her fatigue. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. So thank you, and don’t you dare ever feel guilty about this again. And you’ll have to tell me what you did to rope Kakashi into coming-” a yawn cut her off, and she cuddled further into the brunet, “but not today.” She added decisively. “Today, we sleep.”

And she dozed off in a matter of seconds, making Genma laugh slightly before he too closed his eyes and relaxed for the first time in what felt like _years._

* * *

 

“Are you alright?" Shikaku asked the teenager beside him, noting that his best friend's daughter had been unusually silent since they left the hospital.

 

"Yeah, it's just... Was that really Sakura?" Ino asked and Shikaku paused briefly, not having expected that question. But it seemed Ino didn't actually require his input and just barrelled on. "We used to be friends. She was always the shy, awkward Sakura with a heart bigger than her forehead... but in there, when she woke up, I didn't recognise her, Shikaku-oji. And she _scared_ me." The blonde admitted at last, and suddenly Shikaku _understood_.

 

"Was it what she showed you that was the problem?" He asked carefully, somehow knowing the answer even before Ino opened her mouth to reply.

 

"She showed me my death. Her killing me, more precisely." Ino said starkly, and Shikaku inwardly laughed when he remembered Inoichi's despair at his daughter's bluntness. "But it was the look in her eyes and the fact that although she didn't recognise you, even though she was bed-bound, and even though she clearly booked you and Chouza-oji as a threat, and she was fully prepared to fight you. That's what scares me. Because in that situation, I would've panicked, tried to ask help, get on your good side. But Sakura looked ready to kill you."

 

Shikaku sighed, wondering why he was suddenly assigned to play the psychologist. _This is Inoichi’s job, damn it._ "People grow up at different rates, Ino-chan." He reassured her quietly, scratching at the scar that ran across his temple. "Their experiences also shape their approach to life. It just so happens that your friend has had a couple of really close scrapes and come out of situations she probably shouldn't have survived, so her outlook changed. You might be better off talking to your dad about that, though I don't know how much patient confidentiality will let him tell you."

 

Ino nodded, a small nostalgic smile pulling on her lips. "I'll ask dad. Because Shikamaru changed too. And I'm... jealous, I guess. Both of them seem miles ahead of the rest of us Rookies."

 

Shikaku's lips pulled into a frown when Ino mentioned his son. "I wouldn't envy them too much, Ino-chan. Competence in times of peace comes at a steep price."

 

Ino sent him an odd look at that, but he almost didn’t notice it. He knew she had every right to be puzzled at the rather ominous statement, but he also knew he was _right_.

 

His mind went back a few months. He thought of the Shikamaru who graduated the Academy, forever unmotivated, lazier than even the average Nara and unwilling to expend even minimally more effort than absolutely necessary. He skipped a few months, thought of the boy crying in the waiting room of the hospital, unsure if his friends would make it, but whose posture, despite the stress, had changed in a way that only monumental success allowed. He thought of what he'd said then, how crushed and defeated his son had looked, how betrayed. He thought of the jokes Shikamaru had shared with the pinkette during the dinner at Inoichi's, how he had sobered when Ino asked the question about Sakura's parents, how his eyes had darkened and how his hand had instinctively twitched towards his kunai pouch. Even then, he was miles away from the teen who’d graduated the Academy, and Shikaku had marvelled at the steel in his son’s gaze, but ultimately dismissed it as protectiveness.

 

(little did he know that was barely the tip of the iceberg.)

 

And then he thought of the boy he saw a week ago, the boy who walked out of the T&I cell, the boy who could no longer really be called a _boy_. He thought of the shadows under his son's eyes, the steely glint in the dark pools so similar to his own, the determined curl to his lips even when the line of his shoulders spoke of exhaustion far beyond simple physical fatigue. He thought of the silence that followed his son, of the Hyuuga and Mist representatives sending him an assessing look before dispersing. He thought of what that _meant._

 

He thought of two days previous, of the first time he'd been able to see his son for more than five minutes at a time, and the first words exchanged between them were _"Is Sakura okay?"_

He’d felt angry then though he tamped it down – Shikamaru’s first thought upon being let out should’ve been for himself or for his family, not for the pinkette, but then he bit his tongue. There was a desperation in Shikamaru’s gaze, something which hadn’t been there before, an urgency that Shikaku seldom saw.

 

“I don’t know.” He’d found himself replying. “I heard she had to have intensive surgery for one of her injuries.”

 

A pained look crossed Shikamaru’s face but it was wiped clear almost before Shikaku could really marvel at its appearance. “I’d visit her, but they’re not letting me out yet.” He explained, then sighed and forced a slightly more cheerful expression onto his face. “But how are things with you, dad? Is mom nagging you extra now that she can’t get to me?” and while Shikaku would’ve normally smirked then proceeded to tell his son to be more respectful of his mother’s wishes, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so this time.

 

He sighed and lightly pulled at his son’s ponytail, “We’ve been alright. We’d both like you back home, though.”

 

And Shikamaru’s façade crumpled, revealing how much he wished for the same thing. But then, a chunin popped out from the doors to T&I, calling out a haggard, ‘Nara-san!’

 

“Yeah?” Both father and son turned around and _wow isn’t that new_ Shikaku wondered even as the chunin floundered.

 

“Ah, the younger Nara-san.” He corrected awkwardly, and when Shikamaru straightened, he carried on, “The Hyuuga are trying to seal the prisoner’s chakra. _Permanently._ ”

 

There was a second’s pause, and then Shikamaru _swore,_ vicious and ugly enough to make Shikaku freeze for a second, then watch as his son moved away from him, back straightening and eyes shadowing over, barking out instructions and _there are protocols that they can’t just_ skirt, _goddamn Hyuuga I left for ten minutes-!_

And Shikaku was left behind, watching his son’s back as he disappeared back in T&I, absently wondering how he had missed his son growing up.

 

Focusing back on the present, he glanced down at Ino, his earlier words echoing in his mind. _You don’t want to envy them too much. Competence in times of peace comes at a steep price._

He would stick by them.

 

Because competence had made Shikamaru _unrecognisable_.

* * *

 

“Genma, my good friend, you seem in brighter spirits!” Gai greeted once Genma managed to make his way to the bar later that evening.

His lips quirking almost unconsciously at his old genin teammate’s unending enthusiasm, Genma allowed himself to slump into the booth opposite the man. “I am, Gai, thanks.” He agreed, then stole a sip of something strong and alcoholic from the other man’s glass.

“I take it your good mood is somehow related with your youthful partner?” the other jounin asked, and Genma smiled, for Gai had always been able to read him like an open book.

“Aa. The kid finally woke up today. Told me I was being an idiot blaming myself and I guess that helped.” He recounted wryly, stealing another sip, and watched as Gai grinned, though it was a muted version of his usual thousand-watt smile.

“I am glad. The power of youth shines strongly in both of you!” the taijutsu specialist cheered, inside voice completely forgotten, and Genma sighed fondly then tried for exasperated.

“I am three years older than you.” He reminded the other jounin for the nth time, something he had taken to doing since their stint on Chouza’s team.

Gai merely grinned, completely unabashedly, and held up a finger, “But no less youthful!” he replied and Genma felt a smile bloom on his face, and wondered, not for the first time, how other people could mistake Gai’s quirky kindness for idiocy or incompetence.

He gave up any pretence of ‘sipping’ and just straight out held onto Gai’s drink, or what was left of it, and downed it. “Thanks, Gai. But now I’m gonna stop being depressing and get utterly sloshed before my month of D-Ranks starts.”

For a moment, Gai’s grin dimmed slightly and he frowned. “I was going to mention your sudden change of attire.” He replied, and Genma didn’t bother to hold back his snort – of course Gai would refer to being _suspended_ as ‘changing attire’. What did he expect? “Is Godaime-sama really suspending you from active service?” he asked at last.

Genma shrugged. “I disobeyed a direct order. The kid did the same thing last year and this was the punishment she got, so I guess Tsunade-sama is being fair. Besides, I would gladly do what I did again.”

Both of them refrained from pointing out that making a newly-minted chunin do D-Ranks for a month was a completely different case from suspending a seasoned tokujo and making him do the same job. Genma didn’t bother while he supposed Gai was being kind.

“Then I wish you all the best, and I commend what you did. Young Haruno-chan has a good partner and a good friend in you.” His old teammate announced solemnly, and Genma didn’t bother to restrain himself and patted the other man’s head, messing up his immaculate hairdo.

“Thanks again, Gai. I have a good friend in you, too.” And he left before the jounin managed to evoke the area-effect genjutsu with his emotions _again._ He’d seen enough rainbows and flowery fields paired with glossy-eyes while they were going through puberty, _thankyouverymuch._

He had a barman to hassle.

* * *

 

The next time Sakura woke up, she was drenched in sweat and shivering, though her throat wasn’t sore this time, which meant she hadn’t been screaming. Her heart monitor, however, was working in overtime, and she listened to the erratic beat of her heart and tried to relax back into the pillows, the darkness outside indicating the middle of the night.

And then, she jumped and nearly did scream this time, because there was a figure crouched on her windowsill, though only the silhouette was visible.

“Ssh, pinky, relax!” came a whispered instruction, though for all the slinking around and unusual circumstances, the voice was relaxed and amused, and _oddly familiar._

“ _Yuki-san_?!” Sakura asked incredulously, and when the figure nodded and stepped into the pool of moonlight on the floor, her suspicions were confirmed. “What are you _doing here_?!” she demanded, though she couldn’t fight the small grin that pulled at her lips at the sight of the eccentric hunter-nin.

“Well,” the raven drawled, strutting towards her bed and hopping up till he was sitting comfortably cross-legged by Sakura’s feet, “I’m visiting a Leaf chunin I heard got hurt protecting Kiri’s little swordsman. Is that really so bad?”

The look Sakura shot him was the most unimpressed she could muster and it must’ve shown because Yuki laughed, the moonlight highlighting the pale scar that ran across his throat.

“We match now,” Sakura blurted out, her hand tracing over the already fading pale-pink scar across her own throat. Yuki stared at her contemplatively then smirked.

“And the person who did it? They alive or not so much?”

Sakura did a slight doubletake at the casual tone, then remembered her palm, charged with chakra as it was, impacting the man’s chest, and she winced. “Eh, not so much.” She admitted, and Yuki nodded in approval.

“ _Now_ we match.” He replied, and the rosette didn’t bother replying to that.

“Why are you really here though? In Konoha, I mean?” Sakura asked instead, and the grin she got was feral.

“Got tasked with ensuring the pale-eyed Hyuuga bastards don’t kill Ao and the negotiations squad. Your shadow-boy has been rather helpful in that regard.” He explained flippantly, but Sakura was completely lost.

When Yuki realised she wasn’t following, he seemed genuinely shocked. Then, that shock morphed into unrepentant amusement, and he proceeded to explain precisely what had happened while Sakura and Chojuro had been in Hidden Stone, and the more Sakura heard, the angrier she got.

“Let me summarise,” she snarled when Yuki was done, a good twenty minutes later, “Ao saved Shikamaru’s life using a transplanted Byakugan-”

“A _stolen_ transplanted Byakugan.” Yuki pointed out, but Sakura’s response was a glare.

“Fine, a _stolen_ Byakugan, but the fact remains that he _saved Shikamaru’s life,_ ” she was almost spitting in her anger, “and the Hyuuga want him to give it back? And they’re keeping Ao _and_ Shikamaru in T&I?!”

“Shadow-boy volunteered.” The hunter-nin informed her, though his tone was back to being infuriatingly amused. “So you don’t think bloodline theft is important then?” Yuki asked, and Sakura only then clocked onto the fact that he was willingly playing devil’s advocate just to see her twitch.

But she took a moment to think over her answer instead of kicking the man off her bed with her good leg. “Obviously it’s important.” She replied at length, though the angry frown didn’t fade. “But it was acquired at war-time. Anything is allowed then. Besides, it’s not like Konoha is innocent.” She sighed, and tried to ignore the way Yuki’s eyes shone with interest. “I shouldn’t be telling you this. Allies or not, I suppose Village secrets are not to be shared.”

Yuki sighed theatrically and lightly slapped Sakura’s good leg, the action barely felt through the layers of blankets. “Pinky-chan, I assure you, I am much more interested in what brought that look on your face than any Village secrets. Besides, my job is not even to do the arguing, but to make sure no one dies. So c’mon, spill.” And Yuki looked so much like a kid then that Sakura snorted despite herself and gave in, marvelling at just how much the lack of Tsurugi beside him changed the an’s countenance.

“I was briefly apprenticed to Tsunade-sama.” She began, and Yuki’s eyes widened in delight. “In that time, I was allowed to wonder the hospital and shadow nurses and learn as much medical ninjutsu as I could in six months. I dropped out of the apprenticeship,” she pointed out when the hunter-nin’s eyes gleamed dangerously, “but I did see some things. Mainly that we have an entire wing dedicated to medical research and development. And that includes the study of dojutsu; there are some acquired during the various wars – some from the Land of Demons, some from Suna, the Ketsuryugan of Chinoike Clan from the Land of Lightning, etc. So we’re not _innocent._ And I know that we live in times of peace and all that, but hypocrisy like that just _infuriates_ me. As well as the fact that they’re not letting a _teenage boy_ go home or sleep longer that two hours at a time.” She finished at last, and the frustration she felt finally left her in an explosive sigh.

Yuki, on the other hand, looked _ecstatic_.

“What?” Sakura snapped, suddenly defensive, and the man _grinned._

“You let go of those last pesky strands of morality. I’m almost proud.” He grinned then, and Sakura didn’t even wince at the predatory edge to the supposedly friendly expression. “I’d like to see how your illusions changed since you’ve been to Kiri, little leaf.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes at the sudden shift of subject, but there was something within her that _itched_ to comply, to get an impartial evaluation. It had been a year since Yuki had last experienced her genjutsu, and she _was_ curious how she had improved. And the medics didn’t say anything about not using chakra…

“Alright.”

And before Yuki could say anything more, he was already ensnared in the first layer.

Sakura only created seven layers because she felt an unusually large drain on her chakra and realised she must still be recovering from her and Chōjūrō’s stint in the Land of Stone. She promptly stopped once the last layer was done, settled comfortably against the pillows and waited.

She felt a sense of vindictive satisfaction when it took Yuki a solid five minutes to break out of the last illusion, his eyes focusing once more and settling on her with a very calculating expression in them. And then, a slow smirk spread across his face.

“Assassin, hm?” he asked, and Sakura nodded, surprised. “Well, that _is_ a lot better than I expected.” He admitted. “Not bad, little leaf. They might make a good shinobi out of you yet.” And then, before Sakura had the chance to ask him what he meant or what he thought, he was gone.

Sakura slumped against the pillows, amused, exhausted, and riding the high of recognition.

Sleep claimed her within seconds.

* * *

 

When Sakura next woke up, what felt like years later but was really less than four hours since her conversation with Yuki, there was a familiar and dearly-missed figure slumped in the plastic chair by her bed.

_Shikamaru._

Sakura’s heart ached when she got a proper look at him – he looked awful, and like he’d aged a decade in the few days they’d been apart. As if sensing her gaze, a single dark eye cracked open, quickly followed by the other once it met her own. The Nara sat up, hands wrapping around one of her own, eyes darting from one bandage to the other and finally settling on her face with something like a mix of frustration and relief.

“Sakura.”

Just one word, just her name, and yet it conveyed more than Sakura could’ve asked for, more than an entire speech would’ve. Relief, gratitude, frustration, happiness – Sakura heard it all, and saw them all reflected in the brunet’s eyes.

So she smiled and squeezed Shikamaru’s fingers with her own. “I missed you.” She murmured, and watched as her friend’s eyes closed momentarily and he dropped his head in relief. Sakura used the opportunity to shuffle over on her bed, grabbing her cast and pulling it over to one side, then using the grip she still had on the brunet’s fingers to pull him towards her. “Now c’mon. Yuki-san told me you haven’t been getting enough sleep so you’re gonna come up here and have a nap or _so help me God._ ”

Shikamaru looked a mix between amused and disbelieving but obediently rose and clambered onto the bed, settling beside her much more easily than Genma had thanks to his smaller size. “I’m not even supposed to be here. But when dad said you’d finally woken up I had to _see._ ” His voice broke slightly and he averted his eyes, but Sakura didn’t care, she just wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled his head down onto the pillows. “I’ll have to be getting back soon-!”

“-Shikamaru,” she interrupted him stoically, “either you shut up and go to sleep or I _knock you out._ As Ao’s official representative, the Hyuuga can’t do shit without you. He’ll survive a few hours. Now _sleep._ ”

Shikamaru let out a quiet snort at that but did shift slightly to get into a more comfortable position, and then, with a quiet muttering of ‘troublesome woman’ drifted off.

Sakura followed suit, a smile on her face.

* * *

 

‘ _Shikaku-sama, your son is missing.’_ A Hyuuga chunin had announced, appearing (uninvited) on Shikaku’s doorstep.

‘ _What do you mean, ‘missing’?’_ he’d demanded, Yoshino coming up behind him, laying her hand on his shoulder.

_‘It means that he’s not in the T &I building or the Hokage’s Office. And we can’t legally resume negotiations without him, so we would be very grateful if you could find him.’_

And so Shikaku had left in pursuit of his son, going from the Academy to the Hokage’s Mountain to the park, all places he knew Shikamaru frequented when he wanted to get away.

And then, three hours after he began, he stood outside Haruno Sakura’s hospital room for the second time that week, hand on the doorhandle.

When he stepped in, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the bedbound rosette, her head supported by a particularly stuffed pillow, her left hand holding up a book while her right-

_While her right arm was wrapped tightly around Shikamaru’s shoulders, his son’s face buried in the girl’s neck._

“Nara-san.” The pinkette greeted with a small smile, closing her book. “Is everything alright?”

Shikaku blinked a few times, noting how Shikamaru didn’t even stir at the noise. “I was told Shikamaru was missing from T&I and the Hyuuga are antsy to resume negotiations, which they can’t do without him.”

“Ah,” Sakura murmured, picking up her book once again. “that’s unfortunate. Before you ask, I haven’t seen Shika since I got here, but if you’re stuck for places to look for him, I’d try the top of the Nidaime’s head, or the Academy roof. He likes to cloudwatch there.” And she looked him in the eye, daring him to deny her words, to point out that Shikamaru was _right there beside her._

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, neither breaking the impromptu staring contest while the Nara Head marvelled at the gall of the teen before him. Then, Shikaku sighed and slouched, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“That’s troublesome.” He conceded. “Would you inform me if you see him?” he asked instead, noting that apart from a quick victorious glint that passed through the rosette’s eyes, her expression didn’t change.

“Of course, Nara-san. After all, Shikamaru’s presence is clearly essential since they’re willing to overlook the fact that he’s a child who had just got back from a difficult mission and who _needs his rest._ ” The mocking words surprised Shikaku, especially since Sakura’s tone remained as cordial as ever. He didn’t know whether to bristle or to laugh, so he settled for an easy nod and moved back towards the door, turning his back on the rosette and his sleeping son.

“Thanks, Sakura-chan. Sorry for disturbing your _rest._ ” And then he walked out the door, pulling it shut beside him and stifling his chakra.

Shikaku waited a few seconds, ears peeled for a sound.

And then, a quiet chuckle came from behind the door, followed by a snort that morphed into a full-blown laugh.

“I can’t believe you did that.” Came what was undeniably Shikamaru’s voice, muffled by the door but clearly rested and happy, something Shikaku hadn’t heard for a long time. “Sakura, you _bullshitted_ my _dad._ ”

Shikaku couldn’t tell how he knew, but he had a suspicion the rosette shrugged. “I did no such thing. I just persuaded him to see things my way. Besides, parents want what’s best for their kids, right?”

The Nara Head felt a small smile pull on his face. Indeed, the only reason he went along with the pinkette’s game had been to allow Shikamaru some much needed rest. He felt comforted by the fact that his son had friends willing to fight _him,_ a Jounin Commander, to make sure Shikamaru was alright.

And, maybe, some of the protectiveness the younger Nara felt towards Sakura suddenly made much more sense than before.

* * *

 

Back in the hospital room, the two teens slumped back against the pillows, grins on their faces.

“Man, this has been the longest I’ve slept in one go since Suna. And it’s only been… six hours? Huh.” Shikamaru mused, letting his shadow slither across the floor and pull the shades down and the curtains closed, blocking out the midday sun.

“This case needs to get resolved soon, or your health will start to deteriorate for real.” Sakura murmured, a frown creasing her brows as she regarded the brunet.

“Yeah,” Shikamaru sighed, suddenly boneless. “but I’m fresh out of tricks. All that’s left is ensuring they don’t kill each other before some kind of verdict is reached.” He turned his head to gaze at Sakura’s profile, a lazy smile pulling at his lips. “Is it too much to hope that you have some miraculous proposition?”

Sakura’s frown deepened and she closed her eyes, concentrating. Did she have anything? Could she offer anything? Did she _know_ of anything important enough that would equal a dojutsu? She _could_ potentially argue that she had saved Chōjūrō’s life while they were running from the foreign ANBU, but then, Chōjūrō had done the exact same thing to her, and anyway, when she switched places with him and took the Earth jutsu that crushed her leg, political machinations were the last thing on her mind. What would she say anyway – ‘ _oh, hey, yeah, just so you know, I saved the last living and loyal Swordsman of the Mist Kirigakure can lay claim to. Since, y’know, the other ones are either dead, traitorous, or missing.’_

And then, she froze.

_Dead, traitorous, or missing. Zabuza was all three. And his Kubikiribocho…_

“I have something.” She announced, and Shikamaru jumped, having fallen into a light daze while she thought.

At her words, his eyes widened and he looked at her hopefully, but Sakura looked around the room, searching for her pack. “I need a map. I don’t remember the exact coordinates.”

Bemused, Shikamaru dug around his pack and produced a scroll and a marker, and Sakura smiled, grateful when she unravelled it and it revealed a map. She marked out the area where the graves were located and wrote down exact directions of how to get to the hill and, in case it was inaccessible, to ask ‘where the two shinobi are buried’.

“What is there?” Shikamaru asked when she was done, and Sakura smirked, victorious.

“That, Shika-dearest, is the location of Momoichi Zabuza’s Kubikiribocho. He was one of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist. After my team defeated him, we left his sword on his grave. The Mist diplomats should want to get their hands on that.”

Shikamaru stared at her in disbelief, then started laughing. “I can’t believe you.” He murmured at last, burrowing comfortably into the pillow and pulling the blankets up to their shoulders after pushing Sakura back into a horizontal position. “I came here to see you after I heard you were awake, came here to apologize, and instead, you let me sleep for six hours, lied in my dad’s face and solved the problem I’d been coming at for almost a fortnight.” He snorted and closed his eyes. “I missed you, too.”

Sakura felt a similar smile pull on her lips and closed her eyes. They were gonna kick ass. Even if she had to hobble around on crutches for the next month, she would be with Shikamaru every step of the way from here.

* * *

 

“He did _what_.”

The jounin tasked with reporting on the Hyuuga-Mist trial shifted uneasily under the Godaime’s flat glare. “Nara Shikamaru offered the location of Kirigakure’s Kubikiribocho in exchange for Ao-san’s Byakugan. The diplomats are… in a bit of a frenzy.”

Tsunade’s glare, if possible, went even flatter, a tic forming by her eyebrow. “And where did the Nara get that information?” she asked calmly, but her tone was frigid.

“H-He cited his mission partner as his source, ma’am.” The jounin forced out, wincing when the desk started to splinter under Tsunade’s fingers.

“Of course he did. Get me Haruno Sakura and Nara Shikamaru. In here. _Now._ ”

The jounin was only too happy to comply.

Twenty minutes later, Tsunade had two chunin standing before her, one clad in the standard chunin vest and Nara Clan jacket while the other was still in the hospital gown, right leg swathed in a thick plaster cast from toe to hip, an IV drip on a metal hanger standing slightly behind her.

“You wanted to see us, Tsunade-sama?” Shikamaru murmured, and there was a surprisingly good-humoured, rested look to his countenance, something that had been missing for over a fortnight.

“Damn right I did, you brat.” Tsunade growled, jabbing at the duo with her finger. “The Kubikiribocho mess. Explain. _Now._ ”

Sakura and Shikamaru exchanged a look, then the rosette shrugged. “Back when I was a genin, Team 7 encountered Momoichi Zabuza and his apprentice on our first mission outside the Village.” By the minute narrowing of her eyes, Sakura realised Tsunade had not known _she_ had been part of that incident. “Momoichi fell, and at the funeral, our jounin-sensei decided to leave his sword by his grave as a mark of respect. The location of the graves was detailed in my mission report, so I thought the Village already knew of its existence.” She paused, levelled Tsunade with a considering look, then barrelled on despite the blonde’s glare. “When Shikamaru confessed that the situation between the Hyuuga and the Mist diplomats was starting to look hopeless, I offered what I knew as a potential bargaining chip. I didn’t realise it would be so effective.” She demurred at the end, and Tsunade’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure you had a fair idea.” She pointed out, but the pinkette merely smiled and bowed her head instead of commenting.

“I went to Sakura for help, Tsunade-sama.” The Nara spoke up. “As she said, the situation looked hopeless. She is better versed in foreign politics than I, so I thought she might be able to offer a valuable insight. I was right,” here, the two teens shared a small smirk, “and, as I had been told I had all the resources the Village had to offer when I took over Ao’s defence, I didn’t see anything wrong with using what she told me. Unless I shouldn’t have?” and here, both chunin cocked their heads at the blonde in almost eerie unison, and Tsunade suddenly felt the air of innocence that seemed to radiate out of the duo. Their words weren’t confrontational in the slightest, nor were their stances – in fact, they seemed almost confused, _worried._ And Tsunade would’ve been fooled if not for the gleam of victory in their eyes. They were far too clever to be ignorant of the _shitstorm_ that they started up, and she both hated and admired them for it.

“You do realise,” she started slowly, “that now this isn’t a simple quarry between the diplomats. It went over to the Mizukage. The decision is hers to make, and whatever she decides, shall be.” The looks on their faces said they were very much aware of that, but neither spoke. “The swordboy you saved, Haruno, is the last of the Seven who’s loyal. You’ve just given the Mizukage the chance to train up someone to become the second of the Swordsmen to live and serve Kiri. You realise she _can’t_ pass that up. The Swordsmen were as much a pride and joy of Kirigakure as the Twelve Guardian Ninja were for the Land of Fire.”

At that, a small frown formed on the rosette’s forehead. “If the order comes from the Mizukage,” she spoke calmly, her voice measured, yet Shikamaru still lay his hand on her elbow above the crutch, “both sides will have to adhere to it. And that will cut out the middle-man, who in this case is Shikamaru. If the Mizukage decides she wants the coordinates and is willing to trade Ao’s eye for it, then there’s nothing the Hyuuga, nor Ao himself will be able to change. It’ll become a matter of inter-Village trade, instead of a small clan versus an entire Village.”

But Tsunade read between the lines, and what she heard floored her. “You started this entire _shitstorm_ just so the Nara could go home and sleep!?” she demanded, and she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh hysterically, cry, or drink herself under the table.

“Yes.” Sakura replied easily, not in the slightest apologetic. “I know that, although the current socio-political situation in Kiri has improved greatly since we established a treaty and it will, no doubt, continue to improve now that Suna joined, like you said, Tsunade-sama, far too many of the Swordsmen are either rogue or dead. The chance to bring a source of the Village’s pride back into the fray is too great of an opportunity to pass up. The Mizukage will go for it, and all sides will be happy.” She paused, reconsidered, and grinned wryly. “Well, perhaps apart from Ao-san.”

By that point, Shikamaru was visibly smothering laughter and the rosette looked amused, though she hid it better than the Nara. Both were radiating pride and a sense of schadenfreude, and suddenly, Tsunade wondered whether she had made a mistake starting them on the diplomat path so soon.

Nobody should be able to create such ripples with barely a word. And nobody should be able to affect the politics of two countries from their hospital bed.

And yet, when she looked upon them, the regret was overshadowed by the pride she felt of their accomplishments.

“I _really_ want to demote you.” She sighed at last, which made the two teens stand up straighter, and Sakura’s grip on her crutches tightened till her knuckles were white. “The paperwork is going to be a bitch. But inter-Village relations are bound to improve, and the Hyuuga might get off my ass… fine. Get out. Get out before I change my mind. And come back in a week to hand in your mission report!”

The two were out before she even finished speaking.

* * *

Back in Sakura’s hospital room, Shikamaru collapsed into his chair, breathless. “Can you believe we got away with that?” he demanded incredulously, the trademark laziness nowhere to be seen in his glee. “We got a _foreign Kage_ involved and we’re alive to tell the tale!”

Sakura grinned as she clambered back onto her bed, mindful of her broken leg. “I thought for sure she was going to demote us. Or give us a month of D-Ranks like before.”

They basked in that feeling, grins refusing to fade, until eventually, Shikamaru had to leave and Sakura managed to drift off to sleep.

Finally, after spending a week under observation and being told that under no circumstances was she to remove the cast or do any intensive physical exercise for at least another two weeks, Sakura was dismissed. Over the week of her stay since the situation with Shikamaru, she had visitors come in and try to cheer her up or catch her up on what’s been happening – Ino came again and after a slightly awkward conversation and stilted apologies, they agreed to go out for coffee once they were both free. Kotetsu and Izumo showed up, joking and teasing and ribbing her about making one of the Seven Swordsmen a damsel in distress. Sakura had ended up laughing so much with the duo that the nurse came in and threw them out, arguing that Sakura needed _rest._ (they snuck back in through the window not five minutes later.) Anko showed up too, though the woman’s distaste of hospitals was so clear that Sakura made her leave after about ten minutes and promised she’d show her face once she was well and truly out of the hospital.

And then, her and Chōjūrō were finally dismissed.

Seeing as she had a few more days till she had to report to Tsunade with Shikamaru, Sakura made the executive decision to drag Chōjūrō to her house – she nearly smacked him when he said he’d just been planning on renting a room in a hotel as no accommodation had been provided for him.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to let you out of my sight any time soon, Chōjūrō-kun.” She told him firmly, lightly bopping him on the nose. (she didn’t mind the fact that she had to reach up almost as high as to Genma when a rare smile appeared on the bluenette’s face).

Once they were finally at her and Genma’s house – the journey having taken over five times as long as usual due to the fact that Sakura had to hobble along the civilian paths on crutches instead of roof-hopping like she normally would – Sakura set about making dinner, as Genma wasn’t back yet and she was _famished._ (learning that Genma had to go through the nightmare of a month of low-level missions as well was in equal parts hilarious and horrifying – Sakura was sure that, should the necessity of a retrieval mission present itself again, neither of them would hesitate to go after the other, D-Ranks be damned).

When Genma finally got back, he barely even reacted to Chōjūrō sitting at their dinner table other than a nod of acknowledgement before he grabbed Sakura and picked her up in a fierce hug. But when he started to apologise for not picking them up from the hospital, Sakura merely smacked him and – using the countertop to hold herself up – kicked the back of his knee so he folded into the kitchen chair and pointed imperiously at the bowl of ramen she’d cooked up.

 

“Chōjūrō and I both survived, so don’t worry about us. Your job is to eat and sleep.” And, after getting a tired smile in return, she too sat down to eat.

 

Once night fell and all the dishes had been put away, Sakura offered Chōjūrō her bedroom, noticing that the swordsman had been getting paler over the course of the evening, and knowing from experience that her and Genma’s couch was not the greatest place if one wanted a good night’s sleep. She waved off the bluenette’s protests and all but wrestled him into her room, before she hobbled around through her nightly routine and curled up on the sofa. She stayed up for a few more minutes, chatting with Genma about his week, the people who’d come to visit her at the hospital, the Ao-Hyuuga debacle and other innocuous topics until sleep made her speech too slurred to be easily comprehensible and Genma laughed quietly and turned off the light, heading upstairs to retire for the night.

 

But it couldn’t be so simple. Just as that time her and Anko got back from the Iwagakure mission, hospital morphine had kept the nightmares at bay, but as soon as she was home, as soon as she had to fall asleep on her own, her mind turned against her.

 

And so, Sakura found herself snapping awake in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat and hyperventilating. In the dream, Genma and Kakashi hadn’t come. Her and Chōjūrō had been captured, tortured, imprisoned, _murdered._ She saw the masked faces, expressionless, heard monotone voices mocking them, mocking the alliance, calling her a _monster,_ killing Chōjūrō-!

 

She forcefully banished the image, but its effects stayed. Sakura’s hands were shaking, her breathing was almost painfully laboured, and she knew she would not be falling asleep any time soon. Inoichi’s grounding technique helped her get her breathing under control, helped push away the last vestiges of the dream, but the fear and the shakiness stayed.

 

Before she had really considered what she was doing, Sakura stood up and limped to the stairs, pulling herself up with the railing and not stopping till she stood in the doorway of Genma’s room.

 

It was a testament to how used he was to her presence that the tokujo didn’t even stir but slept soundly, and Sakura was reluctant to wake him, but then her hand shook hard enough to rattle the door in its hinges, and she saw Genma’s eyelids flutter before he blinked his eyes open and his gaze landed on her.

 

In a move that made something warm bloom in her chest, the brunet merely pulled at the corner of his blanket and beckoned her over, and Sakura didn’t hesitate to hobble towards him and settle on the bed, letting the familiar warmth and smell call her down.

 

“Nightmare?” Genma murmured, voice sleep-rough and a little slurred, and Sakura nodded. Then, an arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into the tokujo’s side, and the rosette closed her eyes, feeling the last of the shakiness dissipate.

 

She slept soundly.

 

When she woke up, she was still perfectly warm and comfortable, and she was almost unwilling to open her eyes and brave the new day. However, feeling the bed shake slightly made her curious and she forced her eyes open to see Genma staring at her and laughing, his arm bent at the elbow as his hand propped up his cheek.

 

“What?” she croaked out, throwing her arm over her eyes to wade off the unwanted brightness of the room.

 

“You should’ve seen your face.” The brunet replied, his voice still shaking slightly with barely supressed chuckles. Then, he sobered. “Do you feel like talking about last night?” he asked, and Sakura finally took her arm away and looked at him.

 

Then, she sighed. “The helplessness got to me. I dreamt of what would have happened if you and Kakashi hadn’t found us – our state had deteriorated so bad at that point that we were sitting ducks. And I hated it. I’ve spent the last year training hard, only to find out that when push comes to shove, all I can do is rely on someone else and run and hide? And I _counted_ on you to show up and save us. I _prayed_ for it. I’m still _weak._ ”

 

This time, Genma actually glared at her, and Sakura paused, unused to that expression on her partner’s face. “Kid, you survived almost a fortnight with a debilitating injury in enemy territory, with pursuers who not only outnumbered you but severely outclassed you. Running and hiding was the best _you could’ve done_.” Then, he smiled, though the expression was far more wry than humorous. “Plus, what with me saving you, well, that's what partners are for, right?"

 

And Sakura froze, surprised, and felt tears well up against her will. She had gotten used to throwing the ‘partners’ thing around, but hearing Genma talking of the partnership and realising he was equally as invested in it as her was still surprising and it made a smile bloom on her face.

 

“Yeah,” she murmured, shuffling over till she could hug Genma around the waist and hide the few tears that fell. “yeah, it is.”

 

Then, they heard a timid "Sakura-san?" from downstairs and both suddenly realised that Chōjūrō was up and awake. Sakura sighed, suddenly exhausted.

 

“Your loverboy really has the worst timing." Genma complained, but made no move to get off the bed or move Sakura downstairs.

 

Sakura started to complain about the title but Genma shushed her and she slumped on the bed, wondering if she could muster the enthusiasm to show Chōjūrō around the Village without letting up just _why_ she came to Genma. Reading the air, Genma prodded her lightly, and when she looked up, he looked concerned.

 

"Do you feel up to facing the day?" he asked surprisingly gently, and Sakura sighed. She considered her options, how she was feeling, how the idea of leaving the bed made her _shudder_.

 

Eventually, she went for honesty, knowing Genma would be able to tell if she was lying. "No.” she replied, closing her eyes. “I don't want to go outside. I don't even want to get out of bed." when Genma stayed silent, she continued. "But I have to. Chōjūrō needs a guide to show him around the Village. I need to go check up on Shikamaru, make sure they’re not forcing him to stay involved in the case with Ao. I need to make sure Yuki-san isn't killing anyone. And tell Anko I want a month off." the more she spoke, the more miserable her tone became, until she just curled up as much as she could with her broken leg and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

 

After a few seconds, Genma hand descended on her hair and he patted her head, slightly more forcefully than usual. "You're staying put." He ordered and when Sakura started to protest, he shot her a stern glare. "You can do all that you said you need to do tomorrow. For today, I can show Chōjūrō around and book you another appointment with Inoichi. _You_ are going to rest up and make sure you're ready for tomorrow." And his tone left no room for argument, for which Sakura was guiltily grateful.

 

She knew she should have protested more, should've argued she was fine, but the relief at not having to face her responsibilities for another day made her far too happy to make any protest genuine. She slumped against the pillows, a tired smile on her face, then craned her neck up and kissed Genma's cheek. 

 

"Thank you. I owe you." she replied and got a hair ruffle in return. Then Genma was pulling on his usual outfit and moving out the door and downstairs before she could say anything more. 

 

The sound of muffled voices reached her from below, then, about ten minutes later, the sound of the front door opening and closing. 

 

Sakura sighed, closed her eyes and slept. 

 

* * *

 

She woke up what felt like hours later, every one of her senses suddenly forced into overdrive.

 

Snapping her eyes open, she grabbed for the kunai she knew Genma kept under his pillow and pulled it out, only to freeze mid-motion at familiar laughter. 

 

"Not bad!! It only took you ten minutes!!" 

 

Sakura squinted, a throbbing headache forming in her temples. "…Yuki-san?"

 

"That's right!" the shinobi in question grinned, hopping down from the window sill he'd been perched on. 

 

(Sakura could've sworn the window had been shut when she fell asleep) 

 

"How did you get in? What are you doing here?" she demanded warily.

 

"Through the window. It was surprisingly easy." He replied, and Sakura froze.

 

She knew for a _fact_ Genma kept every window carefully booby-trapped. _She_ couldn't get in through the windows. _Anko_ had tried and failed. Then, Yuki was speaking again and she tuned back in, trying to ignore her unease. "And I'm here ‘cause I saw our little swordsman walking around with a distinctly unfamiliar jounin, even though I knew you’d essentially assigned him to yourself.” Then, he grinned lecherously and Sakura fidgeted under his gaze, suddenly uncomfortable. “I take it you had a little tussle in the sheets, Chōjūrō got jealous and you couldn't deal?" 

 

Sakura blinked, unsure how to answer beyond a stunned "...What?"

 

But Yuki just laughed. "The sheets don't smell like you." He explained like it was the most casual observation, and not for the first time since she'd known him, Sakura realised just how _dangerous_ Yuki was. In Mist, she'd thought his partner more terrifying, simply for attitude and appearance, whereas Yuki had seemed, if not approachable, then at least more _human_. But now she knew that he was absolutely terrifying, and Sakura was not for the first time glad that Mist was now their ally and that Yuki had, for some reason, seemed to take a liking to her. 

 

"That doesn't explain why you're here though." She pressed, and got a laugh in return.

 

"To see what happened to you, obviously.” He grinned, “Though the bags under your eyes tell me it was nothing as fun as two person push ups that kept you busy at night?" 

 

At that, Sakura shot him a glare even as she felt her cheeks get hot. "Try nightmares."  she hissed, and frowned when Yuki’s expression turned _delighted._  

 

"I can tell you stories and keep you up!" he offered, and Sakura considered for a moment, then nodded. Yuki jumped from the window sill and onto the bed, stretching his legs out comfortably, the scene oddly reminiscent of the one in the hospital a week previous.

 

"Alright, here we go." And as he started talking, Sakura kept her eyes open even as she tried to picture the scenes he described. Eventually, her eyelids began to grow heavy and she felt herself slipping off to dreamland.

 

Surprisingly, she slept peacefully.

 

* * *

Genma spent the whole morning and half of the afternoon showing Chōjūrō around, going off of what Sakura had told him of her time in Mist - shops, library, training grounds, Hokage Monument. Towards the end, right before Genma was about to propose that they pick up takeout and head back home to see Sakura was doing, a familiar signature registered in his peripheral. 

"Hatake? What do you want?" 

The man in question dropped down from the roof he'd been standing on, signature book in hand and infuriating eye crinkle present. "I thought babysitting the Mist diplomats was Sakura's job." he observed, but Genma noted the twitch to his fingers that, while innocuous to the untrained eye, spelled "situation?" in ANBU sign language. 

Genma rolled his eyes. So Kakashi was planning on repenting for years of negligence by hovering? The brunet couldn't wait to see how that would go down with Sakura. Still, he signed. "She's recovering. Didn't feel up to leaving the house today so I didn't make her." 

"Aa." And when Kakashi showed no sign of leaving, Genma sighed again, rolled his eyes properly this time and drove an elbow into the man's ribs, ignoring Chōjūrō's wide eyes. 

"If you're planning on tagging along, at least make yourself useful and go get takeout. I can't be bothered to cook." He ordered, more as a joke than anything, then almost choked when Kakashi disappeared almost before he had even finished speaking. Still, Genma waited, thinking that the Copy-Nin would chicken out. Yet, after twenty seconds or so, Kakashi reappeard, brandishing four takeout boxes in his hand. Nodding in satisfaction and grudgingly impressed despite himself (Kakashi was almost as well known for being a scrooge as Gai was for his ability to create genjutsu with the sheer power of his emotions), Genma set the course back for his house, ignoring the way Chōjūrō kept shooting glances at Kakashi and almost skittering whenever his gaze was met with a lazy smile.

Genma stifled a sigh and rejoiced when the door to his apartment finally came into view, though he stiffened almost immediately and noted Kakashi do the same. There was a foreign chakra inside, a roiling and untamed energy beside Sakura’s familiarly warm, calming one. After carefully opening the door, Genma made his way up the stairs, Kakashi on his heels even though the man tried his hardest to feign disinterest.

When Genma opened the door to his bedroom, he almost snorted, half exasperated half disbelieving. Kakashi, however, froze, the expression on the visible part of his face wary, his hand inching closer to the kunai pouch on his thigh.

Turning his eyes back towards the bed, Genma met the gaze of the smirking foreign-nin who was lounging beside Sakura, with the rosette using his outstretched arm as a pillow. The only problem was that the foreign-nin wasn’t quite as foreign as Genma would’ve hoped.

“Why,” Kakashi began, his voice sharp, demanding answers, “is the Terror of the Mist in bed with my student?”

The man in question, a notorious assassin Genma recalled as a flee-on-sight threat from the time of the Bloody Mist, before he seemed to disappear from the surface of the earth a good dozen years ago, merely smirked. His emerald eyes were mocking as they gazed at the two jounin, and he brought his free hand up to his face and put a finger over his lips.

“Ssh,” he stage-whispered, jerking his chin at the slumbering teen beside him. “pinky-chan is sleeping.” He pointed out, and Genma wanted to pull at his hair at the obnoxious grin he shot them.

But then Sakura stirred, a single eye sliding open and landing on Genma. A second later, it lit up with recognition and she smiled. “Genma!” she called, sitting up. Then, she seemed to finally notice the tense atmosphere in the room and jumped. “Ah, right – Genma, sensei, this is Yuki-san; he’s one of the Mizukage’s hunter-nin and he’s the one who gave me the Hiding in the Mist technique, remember? Yuki-san, Shiranui Genma, my partner, and Hatake Kakashi, my old genin sensei.” Sakura introduced, gesturing to every man and seemingly oblivious to the disbelieving air that was radiating out of Kakashi and the shit-eating grin on Yuki’s face.

“Sakura,” Kakashi finally forced out, and Genma didn’t miss the way the teen tensed at the address, and by his slight wince, Kakashi didn’t either, “that man is an S-Rank assassin.” His tone clearly implied _and not a nap partner!_ andthe rosette frowned, puzzled.

“Yuki-san? Really?” she turned to the raven, a surprised expression on her face, and got an amused nod in response. “Huh,” she mused, sending Genma a sheepish smile to which he just shook his head in fond exasperation. Then, she turned back to the Mist-nin with a thoughtful expression. “explains how you could smell my shampoo that time we sparred.”

Beside him, Kakashi tensed, radiating disbelief. Genma snorted and he turned on his heel to leave the room, counting on the fact that since the very dangerous assassin hadn't killed his charge while she was sleeping, he most likely wasn't going to now. He eyed the Copy-nin before he left, a wry grin on his face, “You really need to get up to speed with all the weird shit that happened while you were busy ignoring her existence.” He informed the man quietly and felt a touch of vindictive satisfaction when Kakashi flinched. Then, he called over his shoulder, “Dinner’s in five minutes. If the hunter-nin wants something to eat, he’s cooking for himself.”  


Sakura cheered and hopped up, and he heard the tell-tale sounds of her hobbling after him so he waited at the top of the stairs where the rosette joined him a few seconds later.

“Feeling better?” Genma asked, offering her a hand with the stairs, which she accepted.

“Much.” She replied cheerfully, though how much of that was real was anyone's guess. Then, she smiled up at him. “Thank you for today. I’m not… 100% yet, but I’ll get there. I just needed a day to recharge and then–!”

“–kid,” Genma interrupted her just as they reached the bottom of the stairs and found Chōjūrō setting up the table. “you don’t need to have everything figured out yet, it’s fine.” Then, he paused and snorted, drawing a curious look from both teens. “Though next time, if you want to take a nap with an S-Rank criminal, give me a warning beforehand? I trust your judgement, but then, after the events of the last couple of weeks, I’m a bit wary.”

That at least made the rosette shoot him a guilty look. “I’m sorry. I genuinely didn’t know he was anything other than a scary yet surprisingly helpful hunter-nin.” She apologised, and Genma couldn’t help but laugh and ruffle her hair.

“S’fine. Though I thought Hatake might just have put a Chidori through his chest if not for how close you were.” He laughed, at which Sakura smiled before she frowned.

“I was going to ask about that, actually. Why, exactly, is Kakashi here?” she asked, and Genma shrugged, settling down at the table and pulling open the takeout box while Sakura and Chōjūrō mirrored him.

“Anyone’s bet. But he found us in the marketplace, asked how you were, then tagged along. And he paid for the food, so I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. Unless you’re uncomfortable?” he explained, and the concern at the end made Sakura smile.

“Kakashi paid for something? Wow.” She mused, then broke apart her chopsticks with a quiet thanks and dug in.

A few seconds later, Kakashi appeared at the bottom of the stairs. “The Terror had an errand.” He informed them before sitting down in the only free chair left, opposite Sakura.

“That’s rude.” Sakura chastised, not looking up from her food. “Yuki-san was very helpful, not a terror.”

Genma choked, only just managing to swallow his noodles before he started shaking with laughter while Kakashi shot Sakura the most disbelieving expression a single uncovered eye could convey. Chōjūrō just watched the scene unfold, feeling a smile tug at his lips.

Sakura just shoved more noodles in her mouth, trying to ignore the burning in her eyes and the involuntary smile threatening to break out on her face.

_Things were looking up._

* * *

 

Meanwhile, halfway across the shinobi nations, Jiraiya called his godson to a halt. The toadlet he'd graciously assigned as the messenger bird between the blond brat and his psychopathic jinchuuriki friend had suddenly poofed into existence, a letter in its mouth.

Jiraiya wandered off, giving his charge the semblance of privacy to read the letter in peace. He'd deprived the kid of interaction with his peers and left him only in the company of his estranged godfather after all. He owed him this. 

 

That thought lasted roughly until the moment the usual excited gibbering and short bursts of laughter were replaced with a startled gasp and a coughing fit when the kid promptly choked on his own saliva. Slightly wary, Jiraiya plucked the letter out of his the blond's hands and scanned over it. 

 

When the first two paragraphs revealed nothing apart from the usual emotionally stunted, socially awkward attempt at conversation, he almost thumped Naruto over the head in reproach at nearly giving him a heart attack. But then his eyes fell on the third paragraph and he promptly froze. 

 

_I met your teammate a few weeks ago. She came to Suna along with Nara Shikamaru, since Ebizo-sama's requested their presence to work out a treaty between our Villages. I think it will bring you pleasure to know they were successful. Suna and Konohagakure are allies yet again. I think, from what you said, what I am experiencing can be defined as...hope? It feels warm._

_I talked to her alone, once, though she spent more time with the Elders or my sister than me. However, she still encouraged me to become Kazekage. I was...surprised, as she is the third person to do so, and even my own sibling was against it. She also told me the Yondaime Mizukage was a jinchuuriki, and that the current Raikage's brother is one as well. Did you know that? I thought they would keep people like us away from positions of power, knowing how many we can kill and how easy it would be if we lost control. But she said that won't matter if we can change people's "hearts and minds". I'm not sure I understand what she meant, but I will try._

_She wanted me to wish you well._

_Your friend,_

_Gaara_

Jiraiya stared at the letter for a few seconds in silent disbelief. He dropped it on Naruto's head once the blond had gotten his breath back, then slowly stepped away from the camp, a thoughtful frown replacing his usual happy-go-lucky expression. 

 

Naruto's teammate. Naruto's _female_ teammate _. Sakura-chan._

He'd seen the girl - he was in the office when she'd barged in and demanded Tsunade teach her medical jutsu. It was curious to note her and Nara's stunt in Kiri hadn't been a one-off display of beginner's luck, but a pattern. After all, two chunin successfully convincing two shinobi nations to forge an alliance spoke of talent, not coincidence. 

 

But the knowledge she seemed to have... The Yondaime Mizukage was a controversial topic. Few of the younger generations even knew who he was, and much fewer yet knew _what_ he was. And the story of the Raikage's brother could only have been learnt through being at the battlefield, which Jiraiya was certain she had not been, as she hadn't even been born at the start of the war...Or told by someone else, like these stories often are. 

 

Still, he mused, diplomats were rare in the shinobi world. There was a reason even civilian diplomats were heavily guarded and often requested jounin-level escorts - they were people whose tongues were sharper than the best-honed blades, people who could forge alliances where there had previously only been hostility with careful persuasion, but could just as easily start a war with a single misstep. They were dangerous, and not just because most ended up becoming terrifying shinobi. 

 

They could bring a nation to its knees with just their words, and disappear without a trace if need be. 

 

And to think, there were two such people in Naruto's graduating class... 

 

Jiraiya shook off the chill that went down his back. History doesn't repeat itself, he assured himself. It _wouldn't_ repeat itself. 

 

Still, he'll need to keep an ear out.

 

For Naruto's sake. 

 


	18. Test

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> as promised, i am here in early june with an update! exams are still ongoing so there'll be a while yet till the next installment, but have as a comfort the fact that this was initially meant to be no longer than 5k. instead its double that. 
> 
> as always, thank you so much for your continued support for this fic of mine - it's incredibly motivating and i read each and every comment, and i love u all for all the nice stuff you say. 
> 
> before there are issues, there's a fair timeskip in here - nothing as major as the skip to shippuden, but we go from early december to june, so be warned. 
> 
> if anyone has any queries, worries, comments or anything of the like, do drop them in a comment. and, before i forget, CHECK OUT THIS AWESOME FAN ART OF YUKI-SAN:  
> https://twitter.com/citrusien/media  
> hit up citrusien on twitter or citrusine on tumblr/ff.net and scream at them over how amazing the fan art is. because it is EXACTLY how i pictured yuki as i wrote him. it's cray-cray

Another week passed and Sakura reflected on the weirdness of the dinner with her old sensei, how although they had not fully mended the bridge between them, the night had been almost civil. She also marvelled at Genma’s mother-henny overprotectiveness whenever she left the house, laughed at how awkward and suddenly shy Chōjūrō became while living with her and Genma, and made sure no one was giving Shikamaru shit for offering up the Kubikiribocho.

Currently, she was standing before the Hokage, Shikamaru to her right, while the Godaime stared at them over her steepled fingers.

“So,” Tsunade began, settling back in her chair. “you two have given me a multitude of headaches over the last few weeks. You’re now here so we can go through them and see if your written reports add up.”

She plucked up a folder and pulled it open, flicking through the pages before she looked up at them. “Diplomatic mission to Suna was a success. I’ve received a written confirmation from the interim Kazekage that he accepts the proposed treaty. Good job on that.” When she saw Sakura and Shikamaru’s smug grins at the news, she wagged her finger. “Ah, ah, ah! Not so fast. I’ve also received a complaint about you _threatening_ one of the Sand’s Nobles and all but antagonising an Elder. Mei has said your methods were rather upfront, especially yours, Haruno, but you might need to assume a more diplomatic approach in the future. Not everyone finds being called an idiot by a couple of baby-faced chunin amusing.” She said, and Sakura scowled.

“I can’t believe they snitched on us.” She grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at the window. “I bet the ‘Noble’ who complained was Chiyo. The old bat had it out for us since the beginning.”

“Mmhm.” Shikamaru agreed, “And the Elder might be the one who asked you if you were listening during that first meeting. I don’t think she liked your response. It was…”

“A bit of a smackdown?” Sakura offered, and delighted in the Nara’s snort.

“’A bit’ is a serious understatement, but that’s an apt description nonetheless.” They shared a grin until Tsunade cleared her throat and they snapped to attention.

“ _As I was saying,_ ” the blonde continued pointedly, and Sakura smiled sheepishly. “You might want to think about adjusting your approach. Now then, a successful diplomatic mission makes this an A-Rank. Haruno, this is your fourth. Nara’s third, so well done both of you.”

The two chunin nodded and prepared to bow, but Tsunade’s words stopped them in their tracks. “ _However_ , as we well know, unlike the mission to Mist, this one didn’t end when you left Suna.” Both teens stiffened at her words. “Nara, by successfully evading enemy forces, protecting an Ambassador to Konoha and then taking his case despite it putting you at odds with people within your own Village, yet managing to find a solution that is mutually-beneficial and handling yourself in a professional and mature way, you have added another A-Rank to your name. Congratulations, the money will be available to collect from the missions’ desk when you leave my office. The Village thanks you for your service.”

Tsunade paused, then turned to Sakura, “Haruno, for successfully evading pursuit for an extended period of time, sacrificing your wellbeing for that of a foreign-nin, protecting him at the cost of your own health, and then ensuring he was welcomed in Konoha, the Village assigns an A-Rank to your records.”

Sakura’s heart skipped a beat. Her fifth. _That means-!_

“However, you have also managed to subdue one of your attackers and leave him in a stable enough state that it was then possible to transfer him to T&I and interrogate him. For keeping our Intelligence network up to date, you have earned another B-Rank. Well done.”

But Sakura had stopped listening. Shikamaru’s slouch also disappeared for a moment as he snapped to attention, sharp brown eyes flickering from their Hokage to his partner.

“Prisoner?” Sakura choked out, slightly nauseous. “In T&I?”

Tsunade frowned. “That’s what I said. ANBU agent Fox picked him up and brought him back to the Village while Shiranui and Hatake went on ahead. He’s been in T&I since.”

_He didn’t tell me. Genma didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t he tell me? No, there has to be another explanation-!_

“Did… did ANBU agent Fox set out with Genma and sensei?” she asked eventually, noting Tsunade’s frown but ignoring it for the time being. She needed to know-!

“Yes – I sent her after them when I found out Shiranui and Hatake left. From their report, they were able to join up.”

_Ah._

“I- forgive me, Tsunade-sama, I have to-!” and then she was flicking through the signs for shunshin, feeling the chakra drain as she reappeared downstairs. Sakura ignored the tightening in her throat and the dull ache in her broken leg as she hobbled back home, the rhythmic sound of the crutches ordering her thoughts until indignation and anger replaced the hurt.

When she walked through the door, Genma was lounging on the sofa, his hair down and one of his arms pillowing his head as he read. He sat up when she limped in, dropping her crutches in the corridor and leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of herself defensively.

“You alright?” Genma asked cautiously, his head tilted slightly as he regarded her worriedly. He didn’t seem to understand why she was so angry. “How did your meeting with the Hokage go? Is someone giving Shikamaru a hard time? I can-!”

But Sakura cut him off.

“Why didn’t you tell me Fox brought back a prisoner?” she asked and was surprised by how cold her voice sounded.

Genma frowned, “What?” various expressions flickered over his face and Sakura saw the exact moment he realised what she meant. But, to her disdain, he kept going anyway. “What are you on about? Kid, is everything alright?”

“You heard me.” Sakura snapped, surprised by how much hurt leaked through her tone. “Why didn’t you tell me Fox managed to bring back a prisoner? You know I work for T&I. I could’ve done something with that!”

Genma stood, his hands outstretched. “Woah, woah, if anything, a foreign ANBU would be waaay above your clearance level – you’re Anko’s apprentice, not the Head of T&I. And I just forgot – I was a bit more preoccupied by your wellbeing and the month of D-Ranks I’ve had to serve out.”

Sakura did a double-take. Did Genma not know that-? Then, she sighed. Of course he didn’t know: when she was interrogating Issei, she was called to the Hokage’s office immediately after. There was no time to tell Genma what had transpired in the interrogation room. Still…

“I’ve been here for a week, and we’ve been spending every evening together. Did you not think it was something I would’ve wanted to know?” she demanded, and Genma scowled.

“You were recovering. You _still are._ I didn’t think that was something you should be worrying over so soon.”

Sakura twitched. “Don’t you think that should be _my decision_?” she asked, and this time it was Genma’s time to wince, but he also stepped closer, looking more indignant than before.

“Why the sudden accusatory mood?” Genma said, and Sakura briefly entertained the idea of reaching up and tugging on his hair in spite.

“I feel like I’m entitled to know about someone who tried to kill me!” she snapped, and Genma came close enough to grab her shoulder and shake her lightly.

“There are people far more experienced and qualified who can get anything they want out of that ANBU! Your job should be to heal and train up so you’re ready for whatever comes next. You don’t need to do everyone’s jobs for them!”

Sakura recoiled at that. “So… you’re just concerned?” she asked, puzzled.

Genma, on the other hand, threw his hands up, exasperated. “Of course I am! C’mon, kid, it’s been over a year! How have you still not gotten the memo? You’re my partner, of course I’m _concerned_ when you come home nearly missing a limb!”

She eyed the tokujo up and down then sighed, all the anger escaping her. “I’m still mad at you, just so you know.” She announced, at the same time as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Genma laughed, and hugged her around her shoulders, understanding what she didn’t say. “I promise to try to keep you up to date next time.”

Sakura smiled, appeased for now.

_Small victories._

* * *

A fortnight after her mini-fight with Genma, she had her cast removed and was under strict instructions from the nurse to avoid any intensive exercise until all of her physiotherapy was done, and she was still to keep the crutches. (Apparently, even chakra-aided healing was not enough to _regrow bone_ in a month.)

With her newly-liberated leg, she’d hobbled over to the Gates to see off the Mist party. She grinned at Ao who stood in the middle of the group with his freshly-transplanted and perfectly average blue eye, hugged Yuki-san (to Shikamaru’s great consternation) and promised to seek him out for a spar next time she was in Mist, which earned her a laugh and a sharp-toothed grin. She hugged Chōjūrō too, promising to keep writing him and waving off his multiple attempts at thanking her for saving his life and welcoming him to her home. When the Kirigakure party finally left, Sakura released a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding and accepted Shikamaru’s offer to come over to his house to destress and catch up.

An hour later, she was lounging around Shikamaru’s house, slumped on the sofa with him as her cushion and Sakura napping while the Nara read. It was incredibly peaceful and she enjoyed being able to just relax around the other teen, especially as she’d been grilling him about how Ao’s case had been tied up in the end for the first few minutes after they came in. She was surprised to learn that the Mist-nin had consented to have the kekkei genkai removed even before the order came from the Mizukage, recognising the needs of the Village as more important than his personal shinobi pride. She learnt that Tsunade had been the one to oversee his transplant and even provided a replacement eye from Konoha’s hospital. Once that topic had dried up, they settled into a companionable silence and Sakura was perfectly content to use this time and Shikamaru’s reassuring warmth beneath her head to catch some much-needed sleep.

The idyllic atmosphere was broken by Shikamaru’s mother who came in a couple of times, offering food, drink, and a single, sneaky photo that Sakura hadn’t even noticed until the shutter went off and Shikamaru started grumbling about ‘troublesome women’. She returned to her nap with a smile on her face.

* * *

When Shikaku stepped in through the doorway, he was not expecting his wife to jump on him with a camera and a grin and start whispering about ‘cute kids’ and ‘come see this’. Toeing off his sandals and dropping his vest on the pouf, he followed his wife into the main living room.

Unable to quite restrain his urge to tease his son, especially since such opportunities rarely presented themselves, he announced, loudly and with a shit-eating grin, “I'm coming in, be sure you're decent!"

The answer was absolute silence and Shikaku finally stepped into the room, well and truly intrigued, and snorted at what he found. His son and his oft mission partner were spread over their sofa, with Shikamaru lounging on his back and reading, head propped against the armrest while the rosette’s head was pillowed on his stomach and her eyes closed, her face that of utter relaxation. 

Shikaku chuckled and turned to Yoshino who walked in behind him. "You didn't tell me they skipped the cute, awkward part of dating and went straight to married." He accused, and while the tips of Shikamaru’s ears tinged red, Sakura looked largely nonplussed in a way that Shikaku attributed partly to her absolute relaxation and partly to T&I training which left their agents almost impossible to ruffle.  

“Shikaku-sama," she greeted politely, though the well-mannered greeting was promptly undermined by what came out of her mouth next. "I'd apologise for using your son as a pillow, but seeing as he's warm and doesn't seem to mind, I find it hard to be truly apologetic." 

The answer startled a laugh out of the Nara Head and Yoshino cooed behind him. To their surprise, Shikamaru just sighed, closed his book and thumped Sakura on the head with the spine before opening it anew.

"I told you we could've gotten the kotatsu out." he grouched, but it lacked the usual tone of long-suffering and was instead, if Shikaku read it right, exasperatedly fond and teasing.  

Apparently reading the same, Sakura just grinned lopsidedly, emerald eyes sliding open and glimmering with mischief. "That's troublesome though." She murmured, and Shikamaru paused, considering.

Then, he smirked. "That's true." And they went back to lounging, as if he and Yoshino weren’t there at all.  

Shikaku has to fake a cough to stifle his laughter.

_Like father like son._

* * *

The day after the Mist party finally departed, Sakura was disturbed from her reading by a knocking on her door, and found a harried-looking Anko on the other side. The pinkette felt more than saw Genma slipping into the hallway behind her and merely tilted her head at the jounin.

“Senpai?” she asked curiously, not quite understanding why the normally unflappable woman looked so chagrined.

But Anko’s gaze was on Genma instead of her student. “I know you said not to involve her in it, but Ibiki wanted me to bring her in. We’ve had the brat in interrogation for a month and he’s hardly twitched.” she said, ever so slightly out of breath.

Genma’s eyebrow soared. “And somehow you think the kid can make a difference to that? How desperate are you?” Sakura drove her elbow into the tokujo’s gut, appalled, but he stepped away at the last moment, ignoring her hissed ‘ _Genma!_ ’

It was only because Sakura hadn’t taken her eyes of the woman since she appeared that the rosette didn’t miss Anko’s eyes sliding to her for a fraction of a second, a clear question in her gaze. At Sakura’s minute nod, she flickered her gaze back to Genma and shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “We lose nothing from unleashing Sakura on him, and we might just gain something.”

“Give me a minute.” Sakura threw over her shoulder as she hobbled over to her room and searched for her T&I uniform.

When she emerged, her hair up in a ponytail and the grey one-piece that marked her as an interrogator buttoned up, the two tokubetsu jounin were engaged in a staring contest, not quite glaring at each other but close. Sighing, Sakura raised one of her crutches and smacked Genma over the head with it, only feeling the tiniest but guilty when he hissed and cradled head.

“Let’s go, senpai.” She murmured, slipping past the woman and starting the arduous hobble over to the T&I building. The only upside of the crutches, she reasoned in search of the silver-lining, was the fact that her upper-body muscles were getting a workout every time she moved. Walking with crutches was _hard,_ and trying to keep pace with two irate jounin proved even more so.

Once they stepped through the double door, Anko led them down the various hallways and corridors which Sakura vaguely recognised as leading down to the highest-security cells, and she wondered how Genma was still allowed to accompany them. Her question was answered when Anko sent her through the door, explaining that Ibiki would brief her, but stopped Genma from entering. The last Sakura saw before the door shut and locked behind her was an accusatory glare the brunet shot at her senpai and she wondered what could’ve caused such bad blood between the two.

And then, the Head of Torture and Interrogation rounded on her and Sakura was presented with a thick file and stern glare from her supervisor. “Are you willing to try your magic trick on this one too, Haruno?” Morino-san demanded, his gaze pinning her in place more effectively than any jutsu ever would. “Medics ascertained he’s about the same age as you. Visible signs of a stunted growth, not fully healed breakages, badly set bones, multiple scars, and a high tolerance for pain. Interrogation revealed complete emotional detachment, lack of the basic comprehension of interpersonal relationships and a conditioned loyalty that even the possibility of death wouldn’t shake.”

Sakura from the Academy would’ve paled, probably thrown up, and asked how anything the jounin had told her was meant to help her.

Sakura the chunin carefully catalogued, analysed, and focused on what was left unsaid instead.

_Stunted growth means shinobi from a young age. Probably started developing musculature before his body finished growing. Limited access to medical ninja or poor knowledge of those in charge of healing. Trained to resist torture, most likely. Some kind of emotional training? Traumatic event which triggered an emotional detachment? Removed from society or any interaction with peers. And… a sick leader. Great._

But, most importantly:

_I can use this._

Sakura nodded to Ibiki, took a deep breath, clutched the folder to her chest and stepped through the cell door.

* * *

Outside the cell, Anko was glaring at Genma, barring him from the room.

“Let me in, Mitarashi.” The brunet murmured, deceptively softly. “I want to know why you think the kid can change something.”

“Listen, _Shiranui,_ I’m not keeping you out here for T&I regulations or Sakura, but for _you._ ” When the man looked ready to argue, she cut him off. “I know you have some idea of who the brat is. Her values, dreams, morals, whatever the hell you think is important. But beyond these doors? That matters _shit_. Within these walls, Sakura is _my student_ and everything that entails. And that means that moral constraints or societal expectations matter little. You’re training her to be an assassin, but have you ever actually seen her in action?”

When Genma remained silent, she smiled wryly. “It’s easy to think she’s still a kid when you haven’t seen her rip a man’s mind into shreds and walk out with a smile. How do you think she coped with a dozen ANBU after her and swordboy and survived on a broken leg? Kid’s vicious when need be, and within these walls and among interrogators, she will only get praised for going at someone from a different angle; there is no such thing as ‘excessive force’ when dealing with traitors and security threats. Do you understand? I just don’t think you’re ready.”

Genma stared her down, then set his jaw. “I still want to see.”

Sighing, Anko relented and stepped up to the door, letting it swing open just as the door behind Sakura swung shut. Genma followed her up to the one-way window, his eyes trained on the pinkette and ignoring Ibiki’s glare (which Anko had to admit was a feat in itself).

* * *

Inside, Sakura plastered a smile on her face, making sure it was as genuine as she could make it. “Good morning!” she chirped, settling down in the chair opposite the prisoner. Ibiki wasn’t lying – if you ignored the boy’s deathly pallor and complete lack of expression, he looked to be no more than a year older than her. And… strangely resembling a certain Uchiha from her genin days. That thought nearly managed to dim the smile on her face, but she stubbornly kept it on, eyes trained to pick up the barest hint of a reaction. “I’m Sakura, I’ll be with you this afternoon. My supervisor tells me that you haven’t given him a name, but is there anything you’d like to be called? I might just make you up a nickname if you don’t give me something.” She smiled wider, tilting her head and letting her eyes close with her smile like Kakashi’s did.

When she opened them again, the boy was looking at her with the slightest trace of confusion in his eyes. Shrugging, she made sure to keep her cheerful demeanor up. “Alright, you’re officially Awaku-san.” Making a show of flicking through her folder, she made sure not to look up at the boy until –

“What do you gain from a nickname?”

The teen’s voice was soft, quiet, much like Chōjūrō’s, but it lacked even the barest inflection. Making sure not to cringe at the monotone voice, Sakura smiled.

“Gain?” she repeated, feigning confusion. “There’s no gain from nicknames, Awaku-san. Just a foundation of familiarity. Since you haven’t given a name, I need to refer to you somehow, ne?”

The tiniest crease appeared between the boy’s brows. “Then why do it if there’s no gain?”

Sakura tilted her head, pretending to ponder over the question. “Well, there’s comfort, for one. Nicknames are usually based on a diminutive of someone’s name or a characteristic, either favourable or not. See, if you’d given me your name, I wouldn’t have had to call you ‘pale’, Awaku-kun.” She teased, smiling good-naturedly.

“My name is –” the raven began, then cut off rapidly, frowning for real this time as he looked up at the rosette, looking slightly lost. “I don’t remember. I don’t recall having one.”

Shooting a split-second victorious smirk at the window, she turned back to the boy with a frown that wasn’t as fake as her previous expressions. “That’s really sad, Awaku-kun.”

* * *

On the other side of the glass, Anko huffed laugh that was a mix of amused and disbelieving. Ibiki nodded and scribbled something down on the original of the file he’d given the pinkette and turned back to the interrogation. Only Genma was frowning.

“What is she doing? He nearly killed her, she shouldn’t be trying to establish rapport!” he exclaimed, suddenly angry.

“She’s not.” Anko cut him off, prompting a confused glare. “’Awaku’ doesn’t pick up on social cues. He doesn’t understand interpersonal relationship, and by starting familiarly, trying to give him a personal nickname, Sakura forced him to focus on what he doesn’t know and, in true ninja fashion, seek more information. Then, he dropped his guard. All we had so far when the question of ‘name’ came up was silence. Now we know that he was most likely trained in this ANBU mockery from a _really_ young age, or conditioned to respond only to a pseudonym.” She side-eyed Genma, smirking at the light of comprehension that dawned in his eyes. “The kid’s methods are far from standard, but you cannot deny that they are effective.”

 The silence that greeted her explanation was answer enough.

* * *

Sakura eyed ‘Awaku’ critically, noting for the first time that the fingers of both his hands were _mangled._ She didn’t have to fake the surprised gasp that escaped her, and she was by the raven’s side before she even realised what she was doing. She carefully catalogued the way every muscle in the teen’s body seized up when she grabbed his wrist, and instead called up healing chakra.

She carefully set the bones, reattached the torn ligaments and healed the tendons, then switched onto the other hand. Sakura noted but didn’t comment on the way the boy’s eyes were trained on her, calculating but also confused.

When she was done, she smiled lightly. “They’ll still be tender and I’d really splint them if I had the resources, but they shouldn’t hurt anymore.” She announced when the calculating expression didn’t fade.

“I do not understand.” The boy replied. “You are being… kind. Why? You believe I am your enemy, no? Or else you would not have put me under that genjutsu.”

And like a switch was flipped, Sakura dropped the pleasant façade and narrowed her eyes. “’Believe’? Trust me, Awaku-kun, I don’t ‘believe’ you are my enemy – I know so. You attacked a Konoha shinobi and a diplomat. That makes you my enemy, no?”

“I was acting on orders.” Came the curt reply, and Sakura smiled, but slyer and sharper than before.

“ _Whose_ orders is the real question, Awaku-kun.” She purred, and the teen tilted his head in a vain mimicry of her curious expression, a faux confused frown marring his brow.

“The Hokage’s, of course.” He replied, and Sakura nodded.

“Of course, of course.” She acknowledged, then idly flicked through the file she still had open. “If not for the fact that your explanation is _full of shit,_ I would almost believe you.” She observed casually, and when the teen tensed, she bared her teeth. “The Godaime personally sent me and my partner to secure the treaty with Mist. Tell me, what reason would she have to sabotage the very diplomats who’d formed that treaty?” when all she received was silence, she barrelled on. “So, let’s try this again: _whose orders were you acting on_?”

When all that answered her was silence, she slammed her hand on the table. “I know that your leader is a man. I know there’s an underground base. I know there’s at least thirty other operatives. I know you sleep in bunk-beds, so there is interaction amongst the agents. I know that there were trackers amongst those two platoons after us, so you were _planning_ an ambush, you were a pursuit squad so you knew we wouldn’t expect you. I know there are strict punishments for those who break whatever rules that govern you, but trust me when I say those punishments will be _nothing_ compared to what you’ll experience here, so _tell me_ whose orders were you acting on!”

The teen blanched even further the more she spoke, then, the first real expression appeared on his face: anger.

“I _can’t_ tell you!” he hissed, then froze, though Sakura noted that it wasn’t from anything she had done.

Sakura stilled too, noting the stress on the modal, and her eyes narrowed. “’Can’t’?” she parroted back, frowning. “Or ‘won’t’?” when the boy remained silent, she sat slowly back in her chair, her mind working hundred miles an hour. “’Won’t’ would mean you refuse to tell me for your own reasons, be they stubbornness or loyalty. ‘ _Can’t’_ , however, implies that there is something _physically preventing you_ from telling me… or _showing me…_ ” she added, thinking back to how it felt as if something had kicked her out when she’d invaded the mind of one of the agents back when they were still on the run. _Something_ had forced her out… was it really such a stretch to think-?

Darting forward, Sakura grabbed the teen’s wrist for the second time and concentrated on a diagnostic jutsu. She spread her chakra in a net all over his body, starting from his toes and working up. Then, something _ping’ed,_ and the rosette stood, wobbling only slightly on the quick movement on her still tender leg, and slapped a – probably unnecessary, but better safe than sorry – paralyzing tag on the teen’s forehead.

Satisfied with the lack of resistance and with only the raven’s eyes following her movements in alarm, she pried his jaw open and gripped his tongue, pulling it out of his mouth. She almost recoiled at the seal she found at the back of the muscle, but then the door to the cell slammed open and Ibiki stormed in.

“You’re done. Consider yourself officially promoted.” He barked, then pushed her away from the boy, taking her place and grabbing his tongue to study the seal.

Grabbing her crutches, Sakura carefully hobbled out, her mind whirring with what she’d just discovered could mean.

And then, her mind ground to a stop because she raised her eyes and met Genma’s gaze.

And he was looking at her like a stranger.

Sakura felt the blood drain from her face, then she clutched her crutches close and flashed through the handsigns for the shunshin, gone before either her senpai or partner could say a word.

_Fuck._

* * *

Anko found her half an hour later, curled up on top of the Nidaime’s hair spikes and staring out onto the Village. Surprisingly, the tokujo just sat next to her and let the silence drag on for a good five minutes before she spoke.

“How’d you know there was a seal?” she asked at last, and Sakura was almost startled by the fact that the first question wasn’t ‘why did you run’.

So she answered, though still didn’t turn to look at the woman. “Medical diagnostic jutsu. You cast a chakra net over your patient’s body. It’s why ANBU agents have their own medics. Anything imbued with chakra pops up.”

“So the ANBU tattoo…?”

“Is visible.” Sakura acknowledged. “You can’t see the pattern, but you know that there’s _something_ there which shouldn’t be.”

“Aa. I see.” Anko murmured, and they lapsed back into silence.

Eventually, Sakura sighed and shifted, laying on her back instead and staring up at the sky. “Thanks, senpai.” She said after a few minutes, finally looking at her teacher. “For not making me tell you.”

A corner of Anko’s mouth quirked up in a wry grin and she stretched her legs out so her feet dangled over the edge. “I got a feeling you wouldn’t appreciate it.”

Sakura let out a startled bark of a laugh. “You’re right, I wouldn’t have.”

Anko’s head lolled over her shoulder to smirk at her. “Feel like telling me anyway?”

Another laugh, not so dry this time and Sakura sighed. “Did you see the look on his face? I’m too much of a coward to deal with that so soon.”

To her surprise, Anko just snorted. “Kid, are you really surprised? Shiranui’s view of you is that of a kid – skilled and reliable, but still not really well-versed in the shittier aspects of our day job. He didn’t seem to realise you’ve ever interrogated anyone before.” Sakura felt more than saw the exasperated glare Anko sent her at that, but she continued when the rosette merely smiled. “T&I has dealt with the darker parts of your training, and generally, what you see or learn doesn’t tend to leave the building. So you’ve gotta cut him some slack, and I’m pretty convinced he’ll just take it in stride and you’ll go back to disgustingly domestic in a few hours.”

At that, Sakura couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks, senpai.” She said again, wiping a tear from her eye. “Also, what did Morino-san mean by ‘consider yourself promoted’?” she asked, as that was something that had been bothering her since she left.

Anko’s grin was machiavellian. “It means precisely that. Welcome to the ranks of Senior Interrogators!” she cheered, and smacked Sakura in the face with a black badge.

Spluttering, the rosette pried it away from her face and squinted to read the tiny text in the light of the setting sun. ‘ _Sakura Haruno: Torture and Interrogation: Senior Interrogator: Level III’_ Peering up at her senpai, she frowned. “Level III?”

“Clearance level. Newbies get Level I – which is honestly nothing and barely counts – what you had before was Level II, so permission to do some interrogations and the ablility to wander without supervision. Level III is most interrogations as well as access to files of current or previous prisoners; some access to what Intelligence or Tactical dig out, etc. Tonbo’s Level IV, I’ve got V, Ibiki… who knows, but that man is basically the God of T&I and do you really think anyone’s got the balls to tell him he can’t look at something?”

They shared a laugh over the sheer ridiculousness of the idea till Sakura sobered up.

“I think I better head home. Genma should be there by now.” She sighed and shifted to grab her crutches.

“Mm, like I said, he should be fine with it.” Then, she winked. “But if he isn’t, I’ve got a free couch in my living room. It’s got more holes than fabric and the springs kill your back, but you’re welcome to it.”

Letting out another bark of startled laughter, Sakura saluted the tokujo and disappeared in a silent shunshin.

* * *

It turned out that Anko was right. All Genma did was smack her upside the head for disappearing on him then apologised if it seemed like he wasn’t supportive or something like that, and assured her that he very much was. He just didn’t realise his ‘pink-haired kid was a menace in disguise’.

Then, after a week of purely physiotherapy following the excitement of the interrogation, Sakura had gotten a clean bill of health from her trainer and a reassurance that her leg was in a good enough state to resume light training. As soon as she repeated the news, Genma dragged her away from the desk in her room where she was busy poring over a scroll with the chakra-strings technique she’d picked up in Suna and pulled her outside.

Genma merely laughed at her disgruntled expression which Sakura was sure was a mix of indignant and confused, and winked, “Don’t you give me that face, we’re just going to see a friend of mine.”

Scowling when she realised there would be no more details forthcoming, Sakura sighed exasperatedly and tried to see whether she could figure out where they were going. All her guesses were promptly shot down when Genma stopped outside a modest house on the outskirts of the newly rebuilt civilian sector and knocked on the door. She huffed when he laughed at her bafflement and lightly socked him in the arm, but any further quarrelling could take place, they were interrupted by the door opening and – !

“Namiashi-san?” Sakura gaped, then glanced from the temporarily retired tokujo to Genma and narrowed her eyes at the grin she saw on the latter’s face.

“You didn’t tell her where you were going?” Raido asked, not even surprised but instead sounding long-suffering, like he almost _expected_ that out of Genma. Sakura briefly considered what she’d learnt of the brunet’s sense of humour over the last year and a half and decided that yeah, actually, she probably should’ve expected this too.

Indeed, Genma just shrugged, his grin never fading. “Gotta keep the kid on her toes.” And quickly twisted out of the way of Sakura’s elbow and strutted into the house, laughing all the way.

Raido just sighed and turned to Sakura with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I asked Genma to bring you over as well because I want to introduce you to someone.”

Sakura nodded slowly, cautious. Then, an epiphany struck her and her hand flew to her mouth. “Baby-!” she exclaimed, eyes darting to Raido’s face to see whether she was right, and at his nod and small smile, she started apologising. “I’m so sorry, I completely forgot –!”

The brunet held up a hand to stop her, and Sakura quietened. “From what Genma tells me, you were in the middle of Suna, negotiating a treaty. After what happened, I am not surprised you forgot, not to mention that I hardly expected you to remember in the first place; I haven’t exactly made much of an effort to get to know you personally.”

Sakura blushed, feeling as if she was scolded despite being literally absolved of her faults, and frowned. “I’m also to blame for that – I didn’t bother learning more beyond the stories he told me of you.”

Raido smiled, the expression pulling slightly on the scar marring his face, and inclined his head in the barest of bows. “Well then, I look forward to getting to know you as more than just ‘Genma’s kid’.”

Sakura mirrored him with a relieved smile. “Likewise, Namiashi-san.”

“Raido,” the man corrected, but was interrupted as a beautiful woman stepped into the hallway they were still standing in, looking fond yet exasperated as she turned to her husband.

“What are you still doing here, Rai? Genma-kun has moved on to making the dinner you were tasked with while you kept poor Haruno-san in this dreary corridor. Off you go!” she waved Raido towards the kitchen and Sakura had to cover her mouth to stifle her giggles when the man actually obeyed, disappearing into the main living area.

Then, the civilian woman turned to Sakura and the rosette paled, slowly dropping her hand. Raido’s wife was gorgeous, in that traditional, ephemeral kind of way that only royals normally managed, with pale skin and dark hair, and her eyes a dark, sparkling emerald, only a shade or so darker than Sakura’s own.

 “Oh, don’t look so scared!” she teased, pulling Sakura towards the living room. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Haruno-san, and since Genma-kun came over a few days ago to tell us you were officially rid of the worst of your injuries, I’ve been wanting to meet you and to introduce you to little Kei-chan!”

It was only then that Sakura noticed a tiny bundle cradled in the woman’s free arm, and she smiled despite herself at the hint of a brown curl and pudgy cheeks that peaked out from the blanket.

Then, she turned towards Eri and bowed. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Namiashi-san.” She greeted, only to be waved off by the raven and treated to a sparkling smile.

“None of that! I’ll only accept Eri, none of this Namiashi-san stuff!” she demanded, wagging her finger at the rosette who couldn’t quite stop a grin from forming.

“Eri-san, then. And Sakura, please.”

Before Eri could get a word in edgewise, a loud ‘ _clang_!’ resonated from the kitchen, and Sakura saw the woman freeze for a second, then scowl. Carefully, Eri pulled Kei free from the crook of her arm and wordlessly handed him to Sakura before she turned in the direction of the kitchen, murder in her eyes. In her peripheral vision, Sakura saw Genma shove the broken wok into Raido’s arms and hide behind the bulkier man. The rosette snorted, only to wince when Eri marched in their direction with a shrill cry of “ _Boys!”._ Both jounin flinched, and Sakura merely watched, mesmerised, as the frail, barely 5’5” civilian took the broken wok out of her husband’s arms and proceeded to use it to bash both men on the head.

“I left you alone for two minutes! This kitchen better be spotless and you both better be alive when you’re done, or neither of you get dessert and you, Rai, will be on nappy-changing duty for the next _month_!” and then she whirled around, a brilliant smile appearing on her face as her gaze met Sakura’s, and the teen could only think one thing as the woman started making her way back to her.

_I think I’m in love._

And then, a small hand wrapped around her bangs and pulled, and Sakura looked down only to meet pair of sleepy green eyes in the exact same shade as those of the baby’s mother. 

“Hello, Kei-chan.” Sakura murmured, smiling down at the infant in her arms, startled when he grinned right back, his entire face lighting up with the action. He then yanked harshly on her hair and Sakura bit back a hiss, gently detangling his hand from her hair and letting Kei grip her finger instead, laughing when he waved his hand back and forth without letting go.

With the barest twitch of her finger and a flicker of chakra, Sakura called up an illusion of a little butterfly and made it flutter its colourful wings around, and she watched, amused, as Kei tried to track the butterfly, only to scowl cutely when it fluttered away.

“Kid, are you using your genjutsu mojo to babysit?” Genma asked incredulously, coming out of the kitchen with three steaming plates and ducking Eri’s swat at the back of his head. “That’s cheating!”

“You’re just bitter because Kei threw up on you when you tried to burp him.” Raido grumbled, coming up behind his old partner with the rest of the plates. The comment made Sakura snort before she could stop herself, and she laughed when Kei screwed his nose up in confusion at her reaction.

Eri’s melodic laugh rang out from behind Sakura and the rosette turned, noting that the civilian was also watching the illusionary butterfly with a mixture of awe and confusion. Sakura dismissed the genjutsu, worried that she’d overstepped, but Eri sent her a reassuring grin.

“By all means, keep at it. You just might be the designated putting-Kei-to-sleep person from now on. He’s a very fussy baby.”

The admission startled a laugh out of Sakura and she easily surrendered the infant to his mother, sitting down at the table besides Genma while they waited for Eri to join them.

“So,” Genma started cheerfully in a break between slurping up the noodles. “why, exactly, did you invite me and the kid over?”

“Well,” Raido spoke, waiting till his old partner shovelled more noodles and broth in his mouth before he continued, “we were hoping you’d be the godfather.”

Sakura ducked under the table a millisecond before half-chewed noodles and broth spattered everywhere.

“A _what?!_ ”

* * *

If anyone saw him during the few hours after the announcement, they’d have thought Genma had ended up too close to an explosive tag. The man looked shell-shocked, murmuring under his breath every once in a while and blinking owlishly, as if still in disbelief over the bombshell Raido had dropped on him.

Sakura had been waiting for him to snap, patiently curled up on the sofa with one of the books she’d bought over a year back in Kiri. Then, the moment finally came.

“I’m an _assassin._ I kill people! Have been doing it even before my voice broke when I was a brat! How on earth does that make me a good godparent candidate?!”

Sakura very carefully did not laugh at the brunet’s bewildered tone and simply put her book down before pretending to think the question over.

“Well, being an assassin makes you the best babysitter, doesn’t it? Not only has Raido-san known you for over a decade and knows that you’d sooner lay waste to the Shinobi Nations than let him or his come to harm, he also probably thinks that due to you being an assassin, you’re the best person to prevent any possible assassination attempts.” She shrugged at Genma’s baffled stare, raking a hand through her hair. “I dunno, but the psychology books I’ve read say that parents worry over the most unlikely dangers, so the decade of peace we’ve lived through probably doesn’t matter to him.”

Genma blinked as he absorbed that, then huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Thanks, kid. But stop making it sound like I’m so predictable, I don’t like it.”

At that, Sakura had to laugh. “But you are! Totally predictable – you’ll use insults instead of endearments, grouch and complain a lot, but ultimately raze any and all obstacles to the ground if it means keeping those you care for safe. It’s endearing, really.”

The tokujo stared at her for a few seconds, as if not quite processing that, then scowled and threw a cushion at her and Sakura let it bean her right in the face, laughing too much to do more than half-heartedly swat at it.

“I’ll whoop your ass at training tomorrow and we’ll see who’s predictable then!”

“I’m injured, can’t hit me!”

“’Injured’ _my ass_!”

* * *

Despite how jokingly it was said, Sakura really didn’t go back to flat out sparring the next day. Although medical chakra almost completely prevented muscle atrophy, the sheer fact that it had been nearly two months since she had last ran at all meant that anything heavier than basic stretches and katas would’ve sent her straight back to hospital.

And so, Sakura carefully spread her training over the course of a month, starting with a week of pure stretches, working to get back her flexibility and range of motion, moving on to basic katas, with and without weapons, then gradually speeding her movements up and adding chakra. At the end of the month, she was almost back to how she was before leaving for Suna, and she’d added a lap round the Village to her morning routine to work on her stamina, as that had been something she’d noticed she was severely lacking every time she’d been in a close scrape.

Genma had sparred with her, correcting her each time she unconsciously overcompensated or favoured her left leg. Izumo and Kotetsu turned up a couple of times too, teasing her mercilessly and coaching her through some of the more complex katas and reminding her how to wield the weapons she’d grown unused to using.

She took her first C-Rank since being back in the Village in early February, three whole months and change after Genma brought her back. It was almost insultingly simple and a far cry from what she’d been doing before; a simple solo courier run to an informant in Tanzaku-gai. The run itself took three hours, finding the place the informant was meant to be at took another two, and Sakura was back in her own bed by nightfall. Tsunade clearly took that mission to mean that the rosette was finally ready to run missions again, and Sakura found herself doing more C and B-Ranks throughout the rest of February and the beginning of March than she’d done over a year.

She took another C-Rank leading a team of Genin Corps members to a little outpost between Land of Fire and Hidden Hot Water Village, a B-Rank under an Akimichi jounin to investigate rumours in Land of Whirlpools, a B-Rank to the Tenchi Bridge, and a handful of other missions, most of which ended up being assassinations that blurred into each other and left her with barely a day or two to rest, unpack, repack and leave again.

Genma was clearly torn between amused and exasperated, but he too was out of the house more and more often, much to their joint chagrin. In their collective exhaustion, Sakura’s 14th birthday was spent laying around the house and gorging on sweets and snacks, occasionally getting up to let in whoever came knocking with well-wishes. (Shikamaru had taken one look at her pyjamas and sleep-ruffled hair, snorted, shrugged off his chunin jacket, let himself in and promptly stole her favourite blanket. The gift he brought was offered up as compensation, and Sakura couldn’t even be mad when she pulled out a beautiful set of calligraphy brushes. The hug she tackled the Nara with ended up sending Genma into hysterics.)

Still, by the time April rolled around, the mission influx eased and Sakura was comfortably back to the level she’d been working at before, if not higher, and her and Genma had finally managed to win a blind spar against the Twins. (10 hits to their 9, but a win was a win and they were going to take it, damn it.)

There was also the additional perk in the fact that, when Sakura had returned to active duty, her mission record had read 80 D-Ranks, 13 C-Ranks, 2 B-Ranks and 5 A-Ranks, but by the end of March, she was only 4 short on her C-Ranks and had 6 more B-Ranks to run before she would officially meet the jounin requirements.

Obviously, this was precisely the moment when things went wrong.

Sakura had been in the process of a 1v1v1v1 spar between her, Genma, Izumo and Kotetsu when a Genin Corps member appeared on their training field, bearing a summon to the Hokage’s Office. Genma eyed the messenger, then hugged Sakura and told her to be careful. Taking that as a send-off, Sakura waved to the Twins and shunshined to the Hokage Tower.

Upon entering Tsunade’s office, Sakura paused, then carefully closed the door behind her, watching as the privacy seals on the walls lit up before dimming again. There was a bear-masked ANBU in an all-black uniform standing by the Godaime’s right side, peering at what Sakura realised was her file.

“You called, Tsunade-sama?” she murmured, carefully keeping her eyes focused on her Hokage and not the unknown man.

“That I did.” The blonde replied, sighing. “You ran a mission with ANBU before, right?”

“Yes, Hokage-sama. Back in… August, I believe.”

Tsunade assessed her for a moment, then rubbed at her temples before looking her in the eye again. “I’m gonna be honest here, Haruno. The ANBU ranks took a big hit during Orochimaru’s invasion. Although it’s been over a year, Sabotage and Assassination are still severely depleted. Fewer people are trying out for ANBU due to the peace-time mentality, and even fewer pass the cut-off test due to the changes in the structure of the Academy. Some skills are simply not _taught_ anymore. Bear-sama and I have had to pull some shinobi into the ranks who, before the Invasion, wouldn’t have even been considered. You’re one of those.” Tsunade told her bluntly, and Sakura froze. “Your specialisation means that you’d be fit to fill in the missing personnel in Assassination, and your genjutsu could let you flutter between that and Sabotage. You wouldn’t go full-time, I know you want that jounin promotion, but I will probably have to ask you to run some ANBU missions even after you pass that, at least until we fill up the ranks again. What do you say?”

Sakura took a moment to process that.

On one hand, ANBU. _Wow._ On the other hand… ANBU. _Ouch._

There were less than favourable rumours and heresay fluttering around Konoha about the shadow ranks. No one could deny their usefulness, but the hush-hush atmosphere that surrounded Konohagakure’s elite meant that it was a breeding ground for speculation. Then again, if she moonlighted as an ANBU assassin, maybe Genma wouldn’t have to… and she might be able to get the rest of her missions done through ANBU work.

So she inclined her head. “I will do what you need me to, Tsunade-sama.” She replied.

Sakura almost jumped when the woman laughed, short and bitter, and turned to the so far silent ANBU agent beside her. “Told you that you’d like her.”

“She still needs to pass the test.” The deep monotone of the masked man replied, then grabbed Sakura’s file from Tsunade’s desk and somehow made it _vanish._ Sakura barely managed to catch a blank kabuki mask before it smacked her in the face. “Come.”

Shooting a bewildered glance at her Hokage, Sakura shoved the mask on her face and followed the ANBU agent, marvelling when a previously unseen door in Tsunade’s office opened and revealed a steep staircase. Logically, Sakura knew that they had to have descended underground, far below the Academy levels and probably into tunnels that ran under the Village’s streets, but the near-darkness of the passageways was disorientating. Finally, they emerged in what seemed to be another corridor, but Sakura was soon led to what she tentatively labelled a locker room.

Bear led her to a locker labelled _472_ and pulled out a stack of clothes.

“This will be yours until you pass or fail the test. You will have half an hour to pack for a long term mission, anywhere between one to three months, and any terrain. _No one_ is to know where you’ll be nor who you’re going with. Stag will go with you to bring you back here, then you’re leaving tonight.”

Sakura paled behind her mask, not having expected the secrecy aspect, though really, now that she thought about it, _ANBU._ She should’ve expected it, in retrospect. She still jumped when a masked agent materialised seemingly out of thin air and saluted Bear, and after a flurry of sign language too quick for her to make out, turned to her expectantly.

“You’ve got half an hour.” Bear reminded her, and Sakura nodded, saluted, and signed ‘go’ to her escort. Stag grabbed her arm and with the barest flicker of chakra, they disappeared.

To her surprise and relief, Genma was still not home when she burst through the door – she didn’t think she would manage to conceal where she was going or why she couldn’t offer any mission details. Still, she made the effort to write a quick note, despairing at the ambiguity even as she wrote it:

_Summon turned into a mission, will most likely last over a month. Had to leave quickly so couldn’t tell you in person, sorry. Take care of yourself, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Love you_

She barrelled into her room, grabbing her mission pack and shoving clothes into it, taking the more extreme weather gear and sealing it in sealing scrolls then stashing them at the bottom of her bag – pastel wraps for desert climate, spikes to clip onto her sandals for icy/mountainous regions, closed-toed boots and her travel cloak. Then went her medical pouch, various rations bars, a couple of water bottles and a few books which she stowed into the deepest pockets for any eventual downtime. Taking an extra minute to quickly change into the outfit Bear had given her, Sakura took a moment to appreciate that it was probably the first time in over a _year_ she stepped out of the house in a top that wasn’t long-sleeved. She inwardly despaired that after a year in the soft cotton of the standard chunin uniform and long pants and sleeves, the sleeveless, tight-fitting lycra top of the ANBU trainees made her almost uncomfortable. Still, seeing her arm muscles flex as she picked up her mission pack was very satisfying for her vanity, and she shoved her mask on and headed to the back window before she could spend any longer in front of the mirror.

Stag was already waiting for her and like before, he grabbed her arm and with a now-familiar pull of space-time ninjutsu, she was back in the dark locker room. Stag wordlessly led her through another couple of corridors and double doors, then stopped in what looked like an office.

Bear looked up from the paperwork on his desk and seemed to eye her critically. “What you packed will be inspected before you leave. And do something about that ridiculous hair of yours, or the mask will be pointless. You have the next hour and a half to find someone to give you a crash course in the sign language we use, then you are to join up with the rest of the potential recruits at 1900 hours.”

“Wig, dye, henge or genjutsu?” Sakura asked after nodding to show she understood, and got a snort in response.

“A genjutsu is too obvious and any decent tracker can smell chakra residue from a henge. Unless you don’t waste _anything-_ ” and then he paused, because Sakura’s telltale pink locks turned brown right before his eyes.

It was an interesting perk of her near-perfect chakra control she’d discovered over her prolonged stay in the hospital and being forbidden from physical exercise – if she concentrated an extra bit more than usual, she could use _just the right amount_ of chakra for the Academy techniques with no wastage. The real reason there were poofs of smoke when shinobi created bunshin or henged was because the wasted chakra took the form of chakra-charged smoke, and it was that smoky residue which trackers used to detect henges and bunshin from real people.

After a bit of practice, Sakura, with her 95th percentile chakra control, no longer produced the puff of smoke when she changed her appearance or created Academy bunshin.

“That works.” Bear admitted at last. “Now scram.”

* * *

The following two and a half months were hell.

It was the worst, most difficult, physically, psychologically and spiritually exhausting two months of her life thus far, and Sakura had been tempted to call it quits after the first _week._

ANBU were the elites, the _extreme_ of the extreme athletes. Sakura… wasn’t. That was probably the best way to describe it.

Upon leaving the Village, they ran all night, in silence. Then, they slept, on-and-off for four hours with rotating guard shifts, sparred at the break of dawn – rookies vs rookies, rookies vs established agents, a free-for-all, anything went – only to rinse and repeat by the time evening rolled around. Physical conditioning, speed training, dodge training, ninjutsu training, genjutsu training, taijutsu training, bukijutsu training – by the end of the first week, Sakura’s _bruises_ had bruises, and she gained the ability of falling asleep while standing. In a group of twenty, of which seven were ANBU agents, it was impossible to get away with slacking off. Cheating wasn’t tolerated, nor was sabotaging a fellow trainee, and if you complained, all the exercises were started from the very beginning.

Sakura had cried every night during the second week, then became too exhausted to do anything more than pass out the moment she was in her bedroll, until someone came over to wake her up for guard duty.

Also, sleeping in a clay mask was _uncomfortable._

So went the first month, which Sakura supposed was to bring everyone up to a comparable level of overall fitness (a small part of her mind whispered that it was more to scare them away from ANBU before it was too late. She adamantly refused to listen to that voice, regardless of how tempting it was when she lost/fell over/came last for the nth time.)

The second month, on the other hand, was filled with missions – once their physical conditioning was deemed to be at a passable standard, the recruits were divided into specialist groups. Of the ten that remained of the original thirteen trainees, two ended up in Seduction, three in Body guarding, four in Sabotage, and only Sakura in Assassination.

That earned her a one-on-one trip around the Shinobi Nations with the androgynous-looking Horse, and Sakura’s kill-count skyrocketed from around thirty to just shy of triple digits by the end of the second month. She didn’t really know what to feel about that, so she avoided thinking about it at all.

Horse was cordial, but detached. They’d tell her “Make a statement.”, “Make it look like an accident.”, “Old age.”, “Jealous lover.”, “Natural causes.”, “Poisoning.” Or anything else that was specified in the mission scroll she wasn’t allowed to look at, and Sakura would do it.

She killed with a pillow, a scarf, a hairpin, an empty syringe, poisoned tea, electric shocks, knives, pens, senbon, her _bare hands_ – it didn’t matter.

She’d spent a week of the time she was in the hospital with the nurses, filling in the gaps in her knowledge and learning how to heal broken bones.

And yet, for every way she knew how to heal and mend, she knew three ways to kill and break.

When the list of fifty targets was finally done – _and wow, wasn’t that a mindfuck and a half, fifty targets when before she’d had_ five – they were heading back from the very north of the Land of Lightning to the rendezvous point in the Land of Whirlpools. Horse insisted on sparring with her every evening, so the journey stretched out for nine days instead of the original week, but since Horse said it didn’t matter and they’d still be early, Sakura didn’t worry.

She’d like to say that the last two months had made her considerably stronger than she was before, strong enough to be on par with ANBU agents physically at least. She’d _really_ like that.

But when Horse called for a spar, every evening, she got her ass kicked _each and every time._

When they arrived at the rendezvous point, Sakura had a day to rest before all of the other trainees eventually trickled in. Five of the six other ANBU agents were there, and only seven of the trainees beside Sakura.

After one last free-for-all spar, they were heading home.

* * *

It turned out only six of the thirteen trainees passed the test, Sakura included. As of the last week of May, ANBU agent Jackal joined the ranks of ANBU assassins, barely resisting the urge to scratch at the newly-inked tattoo on her arm as she folded her new uniform and stashed it neatly into her locker, finally back to the comfortable uniform of the average chunin.

All but stumbling out of the HQ and down one of the many corridors that deposited the agents inconspicuously onto the streets of Konoha, Sakura crawled her way out of one of the trap doors that led out into the Nara Forest. She staggered a bit but managed to stay on her feet and stash her mask away in her hip pouch, then set about to making her way out of the forest.

The setting sun made the shadows cast by the trees grow longer, spookier than during the day time, but Sakura was far too tired and far too bruised to really care. And then, she came out onto a clearing and nearly laughed with delight. She stumbled over to the two figures sitting cross-legged with a shogi board between them and fell on her knees, not stopping until her head was pillowed on Shikamaru’s thigh and her arm thrown over her eyes.

“Sakura?!” The Nara asked after a beat, his tone a mix of surprise and disbelief. “What are you doing here? Where have you been?”

“Ugh,” was the only response Sakura felt capable of giving. “R’ning. ‘nd _ow._ Can’t f’get _ow._ ”

The man Shikamaru was with snorted, but the Nara remained concerned, if the barrage of questions meant anything. “What were you doing? You’ve been gone nearly three months.”

“Mhm… playin’ hide ‘nd seek.” She mumbled, then allowed sleep to take over, only briefly wondering why Shikamaru’s sensei spluttered when she said that and started coughing really conspicuously before she let sleep take her away.

* * *

Genma’s hovering, once she finally got back home, was _hilarious,_ but the fact remained that she couldn’t tell him why she’d been gone, only giving the vaguest half-truths and locations. Still, after a week of recuperating, Sakura was back on her feet, ANBU tattoo carefully bandaged and hidden beneath long sleeves and her bruises almost completely healed.

Naturally, that was when _another_ summon to the Hokage’s Office came, and this time, when Sakura walked in, the office seemed almost _crowded_ with over a dozen people dotted around the room.

“Good, now that we’re all here,” Tsunade began, immediately drawing the attention of the entire room onto herself, “you’re Konoha’s best and brightest chunin, and I hereby announce the next step in your shinobi careers!”

At the confused, wary silence that followed, a truly devious grin spread on Tsunade’s face. “The first stage of the Jounin Exams begins tomorrow!”


	19. Trials

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as May_Flowers has kindly pointed out, it has been wayyy over a month since my last update. 
> 
> in all honesty, all I can do is grovel at your feet for forgiveness, since the reasoning was literally enormous writer's block and the fact that i spent the last month vacationing abroad with little access to a computer. 
> 
> here's to hoping that this monster of a 12k chapter will be compensation enough. 
> 
> as always, an enormous thank-you to everybody who has supported this fic of mine thus far, i read each and every one of your comments and i love you all, so ty <3
> 
> to address the most frequently asked Q:  
> a lot of you were asking whether Neji was going to be in these exams: the answer is, as you will see, no. that is because on his Wikia page, it says Neji got promoted to Chunin at 15, which is the age he should be at this point in the timeline. normal genin would not be allowed to take missions above C/B Rank (Team 7 are the protagonists, so obviously they're the exception to EVERY rule according to Kishi) but this restriction would make it v difficult for Neji to fill the B/A Rank mission criteria required for the Jounin Exams. ergo, he is not participating in them at this particular point in time in my fic.  
> (also srsly google Tokuma Hyuuga. he looks as if Kishi got lazy and gave us an aged-up Neji and called him a new character :D)
> 
> now, without anymore waffling, ENJOY!

Sakura walked out of Tsunade’s office in a daze.

_Jounin Exams._

She’d spent a year and a half preparing for them but now that they were upon her, it didn’t feel real.

_Jounin._

She was still an Academy student not even two years ago!

Somehow, her feet still knew where to go even though the rest of her felt like she’d come too close to an explosive tag. Still, she soon found herself outside of Shikamaru’s house and smiled at the sight of her oft-partner and his dad on the porch with a chess board set up between them.

Shikaku looked up and nodded at her, but Shikamaru didn’t notice her until she settled next to him on the cushions.

“Sakura?” The Nara heir greeted, surprised at her appearance, then shuffled over to make more room on the cushions. “Everything alright?”

Sakura spared a moment to wonder what she did to deserve such a caring friend, then tried to shape her errant thoughts into a coherent answer. “Jounin Exams. Tomorrow. Tsunade said. Shika,” she paused, the gravity of the situation hitting her full-force, “what am I gonna _do?!_ ”

Shikamaru put the bishop down and turned to look at her fully, game forgotten. “Well, first, you’re gonna _breathe,_ seriously, Sakura, you’ve been preparing for this for over a year, you’ll be fine, no need to hyperventilate.” He told her frankly, but the pinkette was barely listening.

“But what if there’s a combat section? I’m still shite at close-combat, Shikamaru, no matter how I try to sweeten it up.” She whined, pulling off her hairband so she could run her fingers through her hair in frustration, slightly disgusted to find the hair at the nape of her neck still damp with the sweat from her spar with Genma earlier.

“If there’s anyone who can out-sneak their way out of unfavourable circumstances it’s you, Sakura. You’re not confident in your taijutsu? Then make sure it doesn’t come to a taijutsu battle. Do what you did with Ino if you must. Since it’s intra-Village, you won’t need to put on a show or anything like that, I don’t think.” He assured her with faint amusement, sounding exasperated with the conversation.

Sakura managed a weak laugh then turned to Shikaku. “I suppose it would be too much to hope you might be able to shed some light on the structure of the Exam, Shikaku-sama?” she asked hopefully, getting a smirk from the Clan Head.

“And why do you think I’d know anything about that?” he said, and Sakura got a feeling she was being tested.

“Well, you’re the Jounin Commander. If _anyone_ knows anything about the tests that the jounin hopefuls are gonna be put through, it’s _you_ , Shikaku-sama. Plus,” she added, frowning slightly, “Tsunade-sama never said we’re not allowed to ask around for information. In fact, she didn’t say much of anything apart from ‘be here tomorrow at eight’.”

Shikamaru snorted. “She probably expected you to go around and find out more. I mean, jounin trials are run by the Villages, so the format can change year to year, unlike the Chunin Exams. You’d have no way of knowing what to prepare for, and no good ninja walks into something like that blind.” He frowned and turned to his dad. “Right?”

Shikaku appraised them for a few seconds then chuckled and proceeded to explain the general structure. Without giving too much away, he said the Jounin Exams are also split into three stages – intelligence gathering, skill appraisal and combat. Something in Sakura eased at that and she slumped against Shikamaru, emotionally wrung-out.

“Why not go to Genma with this?” Shikamaru asked her after a few minutes, going back to the game. “I’d have thought he’d be the first one you’d tell.”

Sakura hummed a response then heaved herself into a sitting position. “Genma was field promoted. He probably knows about as much as I did about the structure of the Exams.” She replied, yawning unashamedly then realised it was nearing mid-afternoon, so she reluctantly forced herself to her feet. “I better go. Thanks, Shika, Shikaku-sama.”

“Remember the Rookies’ meetup tomorrow!” Shikamaru called after her, and Sakura paused, turning around.

“The what now?” she demanded, frowning. _Rookies’ meetup?_

Shikamaru sighed, clearly exasperated with the whole idea and explained. “Ino organised it. My team will be there, Team 8, maybe even Hyuuga’s team if their kunoichi wrangles them in. Ino said it’d be like ‘old times’ or something.” He shrugged, then scowled at the board when his dad checked his king.

“But we hardly spoke to each other in the Academy.” Sakura pointed out, puzzled. “I don’t think I ever said a word to the Aburame on Hinata’s team.”

“I don’t think you should use the _Aburame_ as the yardstick, Sakura. Kiba was convinced their whole Clan was mute until he landed with Shino on a team.” Shikamaru told her frankly, startling a laugh out of her. “Tomorrow, Yakiniku Q, midday. You better be there.” And he shot her the biggest stink-eye Sakura had ever received from him, making her break out into more exhausted giggles.

“You just don’t want Ino on your case the whole afternoon.” She pointed out between laughs, then waved off the Nara’s explanation. “I’ll try, don’t worry. Can’t pass up the opportunity to be your knight in shining armour, hm?” and she shunshined away before the pawn Shikamaru threw at her managed to hit her head.

* * *

When she got home, she found a note from Genma and dinner in the fridge.

_Escort mission to Hidden Valleys. Be back in a week. Take care xx_

Sakura frowned, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment in her heart at not having Genma home to celebrate and scheme with. Sighing, she forced the dinner down and ran a bath for herself. Then she set to packing, checking her weapons and medical supplies, then attached one more pouch to her belt and filled it with all her supply scrolls _just in case_. When she was done, she simply crawled into bed and fell asleep, despite the fact that it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet.

In the morning, Sakura donned her standard outfit, tied back her hair and attached Chōjūrō’s hairclip in its usual place, then set out to the Hokage Tower.

Once all the other jounin hopefuls arrived, varying between looking like they were kitted out for war to like they’d just rolled out of bed, they were led towards a really familiar building and Sakura felt herself relax even when the group of chunin she was with grew steadily more apprehensive.

T&I. They were being led into T&I.

Sakura felt a smile bloom on her face and adamantly ignored the concerned look she got from the jounin accompanying them.

* * *

“For jounin hopefuls, you look like a bunch of scared mice!” Anko’s cheerfully abusive greeting made Sakura grin, even as she made a point to blend into the back of the group as much as she could. “Look at you all, you’re shaking!” she laughed, despite the fact that only about three people were openly apprehensive and on edge. “Well, at least you have some common sense. To those who have not guessed yet, this section of your Exams is going to be devoted to intelligence gathering and protection. In other words-!”

“Resistance to torture.” Ibiki’s gruff voice came from behind the group, and Sakura was one of the few who didn’t jump. Over the many months of her apprenticeship, she’d learnt that for such a large man, Ibiki could be surprisingly sneaky. Then, the meaning of her superior’s words sunk in, and Sakura felt the first twinges of worry. “You will be tested individually with by a Senior Interrogator. You’ll each have a data pack that you will memorise, and that will be what the interrogators will be trying to extract from you.” And so saying, he started handing out manila files, and Sakura flicked hers open the moment her fingers closed around the spine then paused. If Anko was one of the organisers of this section, it was reasonable to suspect they wouldn’t hold back… or so Sakura tried to justify her paranoia as she pulled out one of the bobby pins that was holding her bangs back and slipped it up her sleeve.  

Then, she went back to reading, and her eyes widened. She had seen the name on her file before. In fact, she was pretty sure this was the first interrogation Anko had let her oversee. She tried to glance surreptitiously around, but all the others in the room with her seemed to be either committing the contents of their file to memory, or comparing profiles, seemingly convinced that they were made up. The rosette had a sinking suspicion that was _not the case._

Her mind was whirring. Was that how they were going to be graded? Was this what would determine whether they passed or failed? Were Anko and Ibiki really going to compare how much information the jounin hopefuls let slip to what the original prisoner had spilled? It seemed cold and cruel but also – and Sakura hated herself for thinking so, but she could not deny that it was the truth – practical. And so, she began memorising the file in her hands and lost track of time.

She was vaguely aware that people around her came and went, some of the chunin disappearing with them, but it was not until she felt a heavy hand land on her shoulder and looked up to meet Ibiki’s hard gaze that she snapped back to reality.

“Your turn.” He said simply, then Sakura’s vision went black.

* * *

Sakura came to in one of the cells, her wrists cuffed together behind the back of the chair and her feet shackled to the ground by the ankles. She could feel the steady stream of chakra that was being sucked out by the manacles around her wrists and she raised her head and eyed Ibiki amusedly.

It turned out her assumption was right – they clearly _weren’t_ holding back.

Any trace of humour disappeared when Ibiki began the interrogation for real.

* * *

Sakura gasped, her lungs screaming at her to suck in air, her scalp screaming at her to get away from the hand pulling her hair painfully back, yanking her head back and baring her neck as she gasped for breath, only to use the same grip to shove her head back into the basin of freezing water, not letting go even when she thrashed.

She knew, logically, that Ibiki wouldn’t kill her. She also had a suspicion that the reason there was a section with interrogation was to test how much Konoha-nin trusted their fellow shinobi and how much they believed the rumours and stigma about T&I. So far, despite her body’s struggle for air and the adrenaline that was pumping through her veins, her mind was still relatively calm.

Ibiki was going by the book and it was almost touching how much _gentler_ this interrogation was to what Sakura knew the man could dole out. True, she had a black eye, split lip, three dislocated fingers and Ibiki was, for all intents and purposes, attempting to _drown her_ but he was not doing anything outside of what she expected. He’d started with Deception, moved swiftly onto Pride-and-ego down, then when that proved fruitless, turned to threatening bodily harm, and _then_ to minor bodily harm (the moment he slowly popped her knuckled out of place had been the most disgusting, shudder-inducing moment thus far) and now to waterboarding. Which was awful, because it was considerably harder to convince herself he wouldn’t seriously harm her when her fight-or-flight instinct was screaming at her to _get away get away getaway!_ and her lungs were burning.

Finally, Ibiki released his grip on her hair and Sakura slumped in her seat as much as she could, taking in ragged, gasping breaths to reassure her lungs that the oxygen wasn’t going to disappear again. Ibiki rose and slowly left the room, and if Sakura’s hazy brain was right, he was going to come back with the electrocution equipment. She took another shuddering breath, appraised her chakra levels, considered her general wellbeing, then made a decision.

It was time to get _out._

Slowly, carefully, she pulled the hairpin out of her sleeve – a process made all the more difficult by the dislocated fingers and shaking hands – and started working on the clasp of the cuffs. Frequent exposure to them let her figure out a weakness in the structure, where if a tiny bit of leverage was applied in just the right the place, the cuff would-!

_Thunk!_

-snap open.

The rush of chakra made stars dance in front of her eyes for a few seconds, but she carefully kept her hands behind her back, just in case someone was watching from the other side of the window. Sakura thought hard of a way of escaping, how to free her legs or make sure she wasn’t stopped in her path out of the cell and was drawing a blank and then-

-and then she twisted and felt the tiny bell from Chōjūrō’s hairclip – which had slipped free of her hair and slid under her collar during Ibiki’s ministrations – against the back of her neck, the cold metal making her start.

Slowly, an idea formed, and Sakura felt a smile pull on her lips. True, she hadn’t used it before, but if she recalled correctly, Chōjūrō had said something about an auditory genjutsu and frankly, that sounded just about perfect-

The door to the cell suddenly opened, Ibiki striding through, and Sakura took a split second to send a prayer up above that her trick would work before sending chakra to her fingers and raising her newly-hand to dig under her collar, then pulled out the hairclip and, stuck for what to do, flicked the bells with chakra-charged fingers. She noted the widening of Ibiki’s eyes when he saw her freed hands and the way he reached out to stop her, and suddenly he was almost close enough to touch-!

And then he crumpled to the ground, clutching his head, and Sakura heard the telltale sounds of about three more bodies doing the same in the other room, but she didn’t hesitate, wrapping her hands around the shackles and _pulling_ till the hinges popped and she jumped to her feet, swaying slightly at the headrush, but then she was jumping over Ibiki, slamming the door shut and running up the stairs to the main lobby, away from the corridors with the cells and up, up, up, until she rounded a corner and crashed straight into Anko.

“Sakura?!” the woman demanded, surprised but also a bit disbelieving, and Sakura pushed her dripping hair away from her face and shot her senpai a grin.

“Hey, senpai. Don’t mind me, I was just, ah,” she inched around Anko, then, when she was almost clear, shot her a peace sign and bolted up the stairs.

Once in the lobby, she paused to bend over to catch her breath and laugh, waving at the receptionist when he sent her an odd look. Then, an arm settled round her shoulders and Sakura froze.

“That was one of the shittiest getaways I’d seen in a while.” Anko drawled, clearly amused, so Sakura let out a relieved sigh. “Care to tell me why you were running like the devil himself was on your heels and not, I don’t know, still in the interrogation cell with Ibiki?” she asked, and Sakura winced.

 

“I may have, ah, knocked him out?” she offered hesitantly, inwardly delighting in Anko’s disbelieving snort.

 

“Of course you did.” She shook her head. “So? How did you find it?”

 

Sakura shrugged, surprised she wasn’t getting more of a tongue lashing, but then again, _Anko._ "Honestly, after all the crazy stuff that's happened recently, the interrogation was like a nice return to normality." She admitted, not realising how what she said sounded until it was already too late.

 

Anko's eyebrows were threatening to disappear in her hairline, but there was a sparkle of amusement in her eyes. "Interrogation is 'normality' for you?" She demanded, then sighed fondly. "Kid, you're so fucked up." She smirked fully then, and though her words were biting, there was pride in her eyes.

 

Instead of being offended or denying it, Sakura shrugged again, this time with a grin of her own. "Pot and kettle, senpai. Takes one to know one." She teased, laughing freely when she tilted her head to the side to avoid the senbon Anko threw at her.

 

"You little shit." Anko narrowed her eyes and renewed her efforts in hitting the rosette, swatting at the back of Sakura's head. But the girl dodged, giggling and staying out of range of her arms. Grinning a little herself, Anko gave up for a moment and instead asked, "If you knew you could escape, why didn't you do so sooner?" As it was something that had been plaguing her since she put two and two together and realised her little apprentice had dutifully sat through  _five_ out of the seven stages of interrogation, judging by her still-dripping hair, with _Ibiki_ of all people.

 

In response, Sakura frowned. "Figured that was part of the test too. I didn't  _enjoy_ the drowning or the dislocated knuckles if that's what you're worried about, but I reckoned that, y’know. Jounin are the ones who get tortured for information, which had to be at least part of the reason why this was the first stage. I had to prove that I could resist at least most of the common techniques, then get out. I wasn't sure but I was willing to bet that this was a two stage process. The torture itself and then the timing and manner of the escape."

 

Anko was careful not to let anything show on her face. "And  _how_ did you figure that?" 

 

Sakura pursed her lips as she thought, then lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "Dunno. It seemed like the most _dickish move_ you could make, so I reckoned, since you were also an examiner, it was probably the case.” She said with a small smirk, then grew serious. “But if I was captured out in the field, I wouldn't sit there patiently waiting till my captor hurts me enough that I can't run away. I would try to get out before that happened.  _However,_ I couldn't just do that the second I came to, ‘cause there was Intel to gather and I _wasn't_ out in the field. The people who had me were Konoha-nin, so any escape attempts had to be non-lethal. Hence why it took a while."

 

Anko tried  _very hard_ not to let her disbelief show. "If you had to say, what do you think were the reasons some of the others failed?"

 

Sakura frowned at her, surprised and noting Anko’s backwards way of telling her she’d passed, but after a moment, she obediently held up a hand with her fingers splayed. "Got out too soon." One finger went down. "Got out too _late_." Another went down. "Didn't even attempt to get out, didn't handle the interrogation well, or..." She trailed off, one finger left as she scrutinised Anko. " _Or_ ," she continued slowly, "treated this  _exactly_ like a field interrogation and didn't trust the 'captors' to use moderate force. And, maybe, used excess force when trying to get out?" 

 

Instead of saying whether the girl was correct, Anko smiled wryly. "Tonbo and Hikaru have broken bones to show for this interrogation. A broken nose and a snapped wrist respectively."

 

Sakura winced, thanking the heavens for having used Chōjūrō’s bells for her escape. "Was I rig-?"

 

"More importantly," Anko cut her off, "I believe you have a gathering of brats to get to?" 

 

There was surprise on the pinkette's face, then a muttered 'oh shit', and a second later, Anko was alone in the corridor. 

 

Two figures emerged from the shadow of the wall, and Anko sighed, knowing what was coming.

 

"I've told you before that she's being wasted in T&I." A lazy drawl reached her and she scowled, turning around to face the Nara Clan Head and a fully-recovered Ibiki. 

 

"And _I've_ told _you_ before, Nara, that I'm not letting Intelligence have her. Or Tactical." She snarled, absently noting that for once, Ibiki wasn't telling her off for letting her Killing Intent seep through. _Huh_.

 

"She's probably stagnating in here. The only other ones to guess the purpose of this stage were the Aburame and the Nara candidates."

 

Anko bristled. "I've spent over a _year_ moulding her into a kunoichi who could _pull that off_. I'm not letting you take off with the finished product and demote her to a _paper pusher_!"

 

And then, before the Nara could formulate a response, one of the senior interrogators appeared, a clipboard in his arms and a frown marring his brow. “Morino-san, Mitarashi-san, come quick. There’s been a breach in the highest security cells; the sealed ANBU agent? He’s gone.”

 

Anko shared one glance with Ibiki and then they were _running._

* * *

Shikamaru rather regretted letting Ino drag him to this gathering. Although the Akimichi restaurant was, as per standard, filled with the bustling crowds that came in search of the best BBQ in Konoha, the company he was with prevented Shikamaru from melting into the background and observing the people or napping, like he would have normally done.

All of the remains of the Konoha 11 – his team, Team 8, and the Hyuuga’s team were gathered around the table, Team 7 conspicuously missing. Still, it seemed that Kiba was trying to make up for the lack of the loudmouthed blond and he kept antagonising his Aburame teammate, trying to get Hinata to talk louder or glaring at her cousin despite the fact that, to the best of Shikamaru’s knowledge, the rift between the Hyuuga cousins was on its way to disappearing completely.

The Aburame, as could be expected, did not rise to the challenge, Hinata just ended up blushing more and speaking even less, while Neji had developed a considerable tick in his brow, not helped in the least by his bushy-browed teammate who was crowing about ‘youth’ and ridiculous challenges. Ino had risen to the occasion, yelling at Kiba and trying to smack him in a way she’d – luckily – long since stopped trying to hit him and Chouji. Neji’s female teammate seemed to be the only sane one in the group, though Shikamaru saw her giggle at something the Hyuuga did and cover her mouth in the way he remembered Academy-Ino doing around the Uchiha and he sighed. There went the possibility of an ally.

Why couldn’t the Jounin Exams be on a different day?

“Ow-! What the hell, woman?!” Kiba yelped, covering his head to prevent Ino from hitting him again. “What was that for? I was telling the truth! Shikamaru, back me up!”

The Nara raised an eyebrow, looking between his indignant teammate and the Inuzuka. “With what?” he asked cautiously, not really wanting to get between an angry Ino and her target.

“All I said was that the reason there are fewer kunoichi than shinobi is that women are weaker! Ow, damn it, they are! That’s why most retire and take up a desk job and raise kids- ow, damn it, Ino, stop!” he finally managed to switch seats with Shino so the blonde didn’t have such easy access to keep smacking him, and turned to Shikamaru. “Back me up, man!”

But Shikamaru crossed his arms and slouched further in his seat, snorting. “Nah. First, I’m not getting in the middle of that,” he waved his arm to vaguely indicate Ino and Kiba’s squabbling, “and second, I don’t think that’s true.”

“Damn right you don’t!” Ino cheered, momentarily forgetting her anger to flash him a grin and blow him a kiss before she went to smack Kiba, _again._ “See? That’s what happens when you heed my teachings! And Sakura’s too, I suppose.” She added after a moment’s thought, and Chouji took a break from scarfing down food to nod to show his agreement.

“Sakura?” Kiba parroted, drawing the attention of Team 9 who had previously been busy watching Chouji eat a platter for five by himself. “Pink hair, our graduating class Sakura? She’s still a ninja?”

Shikamaru bristled inwardly, but luckily Ino was indignant enough for the two of them. “Of course! She’s a chunin like Shikamaru, or did you forget?”

Kiba just shrugged, “Dunno, haven’t seen her around much so I thought she quit. Plus, everyone’s here but her, so you can’t blame me.”

And Shikamaru would never know what compelled him to say it, but he ended up biting out, “That’s because she’s taking her Jounin Exam right now.” And immediately clamped him mouth shut, but it was too late, the cat was out of the metaphorical bag and Shikamaru could see no way of shoving it back in.

“She’s _what_?”

“How do you know?”

“How are _we_ still genin?!”

Shikamaru sighed and resigned himself to a round of 20 questions, but then, Shino became his unlikely rescuer and murmured, “I heard about what you did in T&I. My father said what you did was brave.”

The Nara snorted, “Try ‘stupid’.” He replied, but then Neji of all people butted in.

“I did not realise you were the thief’s representative.” The Hyuuga said, his brows drawing together in a frown when Shikamaru reflexively snapped ‘Ao’. “Pardon me?”

“Ao. The thief’s name, as you put it, was Ao.” He explained, and for the second time that day was wondering what on earth had possessed him to open his mouth.

Then, Kiba, of all people, clued in to what they were talking about. “Wait, wait, wait! That was _you_?!” he demanded, incredulous, and Shikamaru may or may not have groaned aloud at the question. “Damn, man. My sister was talking about the Hyuuga getting all pissy ‘cause a Nara had the balls to defend a foreign bloodline thief, but I had no clue _you_ were that Nara!”

“Yup, Shika’s just that awesome.” A new voice piped in, and the table as a whole jumped two feet in the air because Sakura suddenly materialised in the empty seat Shikamaru had left beside him, her hair slightly damp and looking a bit tired, but she shot him a smile when their eyes met.  

“Sakura?” Shikamaru asked, a note of disbelief in his voice, because the girl _had just snuck up on two Byakugan users._ Then, he calmed down because it was _Sakura,_ so of course she did. “How was the test?”

Sakura held out a hand, palm down, and wobbled it from side to side with a small shrug. “Eh, it wasn’t too bad. Tested resistance to interrogation. I got Ibiki-san since senpai is, y’know, my _senpai,_ so they wanted to avoid favouritism and saddled me with the Big Bad instead.” She grinned lopsidedly and bumped her shoulder with his, a few droplets falling from her bangs and landing on his jacket. “He was nice about it and went very by-the-book, so it wasn’t too bad.”

Shikamaru nodded, accepting that from what the rosette had told him of her experience of T&I, and they both turned to the rest of the Rookie 9, only to realise that they were being stared at.

“Resistance… to interrogation?” the weapons mistress repeated slowly, at the same time as Ino widened her eyes and demanded, “Ibiki? As in, Morino Ibiki? Head of Torture and Interrogation Ibiki? The proctor for the first exam?”

When Sakura nodded, confused, Kiba gawked. “You got _interrogated_ by the crazy scarred guy from the Chunin Exams and you say it _wasn’t too bad_?”

Sakura scowled, uncomfortable with the attention. “Hey now, that ‘crazy scarred guy’ is my supervisor so be nicer about it.” She snapped, then smirked proudly when she added, “Besides, apparently the guy senpai had _cried._ ”

When all _that_ earned her was more flat stares – which she didn’t understand; that little tidbit was hilarious in her opinion – Shikamaru came to her rescue with a very valid point. “I believe their issue is with your definition of ‘not too bad’ rather than the viciousness of the interrogator.” He pointed out, which Sakura was embarrassed to note was probably exactly right.

“Ah, right, sorry.” And then, because apparently, her brain was still in the T&I cell, she pointed out, “But it really wasn’t too bad. Running through three countries on a shattered leg, now _that_ was _bad._ ”

“Anyway,” Shikamaru managed to choke out when he stopped laughing at her and the fact that the stares had only worsened. “after you left yesterday, dad said something about joint Chunin Exams to celebrate the alliance. D’you know anything about that?”

“K-Kurenai-sensei g-gave us forms to s-sign today.” Hinata spoke up, so quietly that Sakura almost didn’t notice if not for the fact she saw her lips move. “S-So they’ll p-probably be soon.”

“Yeah, we got forms too.” Tenten piped in, and Chouji nodded, and Sakura turned to the Nara with a sigh.

“Which means we’ll get roped in, most likely.” She pointed out, and Shikamaru tensed for a second before slumping in his seat, resigned.

“Damn it. But I’m leaving the Kiri crazies to you. Had enough of them to last a lifetime.” He grouched, and Sakura couldn’t help but laugh.

Then, Kiba opened his mouth and Sakura realised she was getting the same compulsion she had back as genin with Naruto – whenever his mouth opened, her hand itched to slap it closed. Or just slap _him._ She wasn’t picky. “But I thought you guys are already chunin? So why would you need to take part?”

“Man, are _you_ slow on the uptake today?” Shikamaru mumbled bitingly, quietly enough that only Sakura heard and had to hastily stifle a snort, elbowing the brunet lightly to shut him up.

“We are, Kiba. But we’re also Ambassadors to both Mist, and Suna. Since it’s a three-way alliance, it’s likely that the each of the stages will take part in a different Village, in which case we’ll probably have to tag along with you guys as representatives.” She explained, then, because Shikamaru was still sulking, added, “Or maybe just Shika, since I’ll have exams of my own.” She added with a grin, delighting in the Nara’s snap to attention.

“You’re _not_ leaving me with the Suna Elders.” He ordered, blanching despite his tan. “I’ll sabotage your Exams if I have to, I’m not facing Chiyo alone.” He threatened, and Sakura shot him a saccharine smile.

“Shikamaru, sweetheart, if you mess this up for me I’ll tell your mother that it was _you,_ not the deer herd that trampled all over her hydrangeas.” She replied, batting her eyelashes at the Nara till he scowled.

“Fine, fine. I won’t. That doesn’t mean I won’t complain about it the whole time.”

Sakura laughed and poked him in the ribs. “So as per usual then, hm?” and not even Shikamaru himself could hold back his snort at that.

Then, the conversation moved on to the upcoming Chunin Exams and Sakura was content to watch instead of participate. She smiled fondly as her old classmates bickered and plotted and laughed and made a conscious effort to include Gai’s team. Maybe it had been wrong of her to cut off contact with them the moment Team 7 dissolved, but then again, they had never been a close-knit group even at the Academy.

Still, she watched with no small degree of wonder as Ino and Shino ganged up on Kiba who had been about to jump over the table at something Lee had said, while Tenten and Chouji talked about some of the recipe books the Kiri merchants had brought in, and Neji and Hinata engaged in some quiet conversation.

There was an innocence to them as well, some of that Academy-bred naïveté that still hadn’t left them, and Sakura was half glad for it and half bitter, because all that meant was that they hadn’t been disillusioned by their profession yet. Then there was the fact that they all _looked_ different, freer, that they still had some individual style which in most cases wasn’t there for practicality because it hadn’t yet _needed to be_ practical. She looked to her and Shikamaru and marvelled at how they had both unconsciously become used to their flak jackets and standard gear and grown to appreciate nondescript clothing and minimal bandages over fanciful, impractical, and simply dangerous (because Ino’s midriff top was nothing if not an invitation to gut her) style.

Shikamaru’s hand on her elbow brought her attention onto the brunet and his murmured, “Control that expression on your face or someone will notice.” And Sakura realised she’d unconsciously let her lip curl and her brow crease in her musings, so she quickly smiled and turned away from the table to face her fellow diplomat.

“Thanks. I was just thinking-”

“-that we stick out?” Shikamaru finished for her, and she didn’t have it in her to even be surprised, so she nodded instead. “Yeah, same.” He sighed, then relaxed in his chair, absently plucking two sticks of dango from the desserts platter and offering one to her. “Don’t think about it. It’s not their fault, nor is it ours.”

“What should I blame then?” she asked teasingly, though there was a note of seriousness in her voice. “Fate? Karma? Hokage-sama?”

Shikamaru’s grin was sharp and only slightly bitter. “Why not all three?” and when Sakura’s startled laughter joined in to the giggles and squawks of her old classmates, she decided that she could get used to this.

* * *

Naturally, the relaxed atmosphere from the Rookies’ meetup was not to last, and that same night, Sakura was snapping awake at three in the morning, the feeling of being drowned making her gasp for breath, not realising that she was hyperventilating until her breath was loud enough to snap her out of it. She ran a hand through her hair and rubbed at her eyes, frowning at the wetness on her cheeks. Sighing, the rosette crawled out of bed, realising only after she was already halfway up the stairs that Genma was still on his mission.

Sakura hesitated for a minute, knowing she would not be able to sleep but also too exhausted to go out and train. She trekked to the kitchen, switching on the lights and rummaging through the cabinets until she had sugar, flour, eggs, chocolate and butter out on the countertop. She briefly entertained the thought of how much Genma was going to laugh at her when he found out she baked his favourite cookies to ward off nightmares, then shrugged and set to creaming the butter.

A few days of ribbing would still be better than trying to sleep in her current state of mind.

* * *

In the morning, she was woken up by a persistent knocking on the door. She rubbed at her eyes, absently realising that she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, a half-eaten cookie still loosely held in her hand and couldn’t help laughing quietly at herself. Once she dragged herself through the house and opened the door, she was greeted by the sight of a frazzled-looking genin message runner and promptly informed that she was to report to Training Ground 39 for the second stage of her exam.

When she turned up to the Training Grounds half an hour later, cussing under her breath, kitted up like usual and sporting some truly unflattering black circles under her eyes, someone was already there. Jounin, judging by his attire and the way he held himself. And then he turned, and Sakura recognised his face from the photos around the house.

Ebisu. Genma’s genin teammate.

“You’re late.” He told her flatly, pushing up his sunglasses. “Nevermind. You’ve got five minutes to warm up, then we start.”

Sakura stayed rooted to the spot, her eyes narrowed. “Start _what,_ exactly?” she asked suspiciously, and Ebisu turned to her like she was stupid for even asking.

“The practical skill assessment. I’m here to see whether you have the basic skill level required of a jounin. Now stretch. You’ll need it.” And Sakura remembered the phrase that often accompanied Ebisu whenever Genma talked about him – ‘ _really anal’._ She couldn’t help but agree.

But she obeyed and stretched, ran a few laps around the field and just as she was about to reach down and touch her toes, a kick came flying at the back of her knee and she forced herself into a handspring to dodge. She turned, indignant, to face Ebisu who was lowering his leg, certain her face spelled out a very annoyed ‘what the fuck?!’. In response, the jounin smirked and pushed up his glasses.

“Five minutes are up.” And then he was on her in a rapid flurry of taijutsu blows and punches. Sakura dodged as much as she could and retaliated when she could see a window to strike. She took some pride in the fact that Ebisu hadn’t landed anything harder than a glancing blow in the first five minutes, but then he upped the speed of the strikes and Sakura scowled, having an unpleasant flashback to the month with Horse.

So she matched his speed and waited for the moment he was off-balance. When it came, she sidestepped his punch, grabbed his wrist and turned her back on him before, chakra pumping through her arms, she bent over and threw him over her shoulder and onto the ground. Ebisu’s back impacted the ground with a dull ‘thud’ and she saw the moment the air was knocked completely out of him. She found herself having to seriously restrain herself from stamping on his throat with her foot and she panicked, terrified that such an impulse would even strike her.

By the time she got herself under control, Ebisu was back on his feet and scribbling something on his clipboard. Then, before she could blink at the odd scene, a giant fire bullet was coming her way and all she could do was let out a terrified ‘eep’ and disappear underground, thanking the heavens for the Hiding Like a Mole technique.

“Don’t evade!” Ebisu snapped at her when she remerged, surprisingly frustrated. “Counter!” and with the barest twitch of his fingers, the same bullet, only this time made of water was coming right at her, and Sakura managed to throw up an Earth Wall seconds before it took off her head.

“Do you try to kill all the trainees, or am I just special?!” she screeched at the man, feeling justifiably angry when she let the wall crumble into mud.

“If I was trying to kill you, Haruno, you wouldn’t have had time to throw up even that pathetically basic defence.” He replied, and this time Sakura was ready for the fire-covered shuriken that came her way, plucking them out of the air with chakra strings while she dodged the fireballs.

The rosette frowned and decided that if he was allowed to try to kill her, she could return the favour. She flashed through the handseals and touched the ground with the tips of her fingers and watched as four rock spears shot out of the ground from different directions and headed straight to where Ebisu was standing, sharpened tips aiming for all the vital organs.

Sakura saw a flicker of surprise on the jounin’s face before he shunshined away, but a spear still managed to cut his pants leg, though Sakura couldn’t see any blood. She had about two seconds to feel proud of herself before she realised her feet started sinking into the ground, and Ebisu was flickering through a long chain of handsigns that was _uncomfortably familiar._ And then, a giant water dragon reared its head, rising from the stream like a vengeful spirit, and Sakura was having really unpleasant flashbacks to the fight during Team 7’s first ever C-Rank. She had milliseconds to decide her course of action, but just as the water dragon was about to hit her, she crouched and pumped chakra into the quicksand at her feet, sinking in completely. With compact earth surrounding her from all sides, Sakura gave herself a moment to catch a breather, and then, feeling vindictive, sought out Ebisu’s chakra and started layering her illusions. After all, if it was a free-for-all, she wasn’t about to hold back her hardest hitters.

When she was done, she slowly crawled to the surface, chakra muted as she watched Ebisu stumble when her vertigo genjutsu hit. She darted over, arm pulled back in a punch, but in the last moment, Ebisu turned, grabbed her wrist and, using her momentum against her, threw her towards the treeline.

Sakura managed to turn in mid-air and push off the trunk before she collided with it, then crouched, appraising the tokujo. He was clearly still nauseous, but he had somehow managed to overcome that and sense her coming. Grudgingly, Sakura felt her respect for the man grow.

“I hadn’t…finished the ninjutsu stage…yet.” He panted, straightening at last.

The rosette had little sympathy. “Sorry. Should’ve been clearer with your instructions.” She shrugged, then darted forward again.

They danced around each other for a few more minutes, firing off ninjutsu and rapid-fire taijutsu in Ebisu’s case, while Sakura brought out her naginata and fuinjutsu, alongside the constant slew of illusions. Eventually, just as Sakura was about to slap a knockout tag on Ebisu’s forehead, she felt the tip of a kunai between her third and fourth rib, angled upwards to perfectly pierce through tissue and into her heart. They stayed like that for a breath, then Sakura pulled back with a sigh.

Ebisu appraised her for a few seconds, then nodded. “The final stage is in two weeks in the Tower the Chunin Exam preliminaries were held in. As part of the test, you are expected to get through the forest and report in the main arena at eight in the morning. Understood?”

All Sakura could do was nod, and then the exhaustion caught up to her and she fell on her butt, managing a weak wave at Ebisu as he walked away.

* * *

Genma got back a week before the final combat stage, walking through the door just in time to see Sakura almost fall asleep with her face in a bowl of soup. Naturally, Genma took a moment to laugh first, before moving to avert the imminent crisis of face-in-bowl. He steered her to the sofa and only when she was snug under the blankets and a step away from falling asleep did he ask what caused the drop.

The mumbled “Final stage… Jounin Exams… g’ta prep…” were enough to ensure that she would be getting no sleep until she explained everything to Genma in sufficient detail.

Only after they went through all the possible challenges and ways in which the combat stage could go wrong and the subsequent steps she’d have to take to right it, did Genma pick her up and carry her to her bed, ignoring the grumbled complaints when he dropped her unceremoniously on the bed.

“Sleep, kid. We’re gonna be training so much over the next week that you won’t even have the energy to worry.”

And with those cheerful words of encouragement, Sakura drifted off.

* * *

Genma kept his word, and a week later, when she actually had to face the challenge of getting to the Tower, she was considerably less worried than she thought she would be.

Two years difference and a lack of a murderous Snake Sannin also had a great effect on how she viewed the Forest of Death – whereas before, it was an insurmountable challenge, now, she ran through it with hardly any problems in less than half an hour, and that included all the dodging of creepy crawlies and other jounin hopefuls.

So when she got to the arena, hardly out of breath and with nary a scratch on her, she was feeling cautiously optimistic. Tsunade’s speech was a lot better than the Sandaime’s, even with all the talk of ‘increased risks’ that come with the upper ranks and talks of ‘honour’ and ‘duty’ that reminded Sakura of the Academy-grade patriotism that had been spoonfed to them.

And then, the matches started – a jounin hopeful vs an established jounin, starting from tokujo and progressing to fighting full jounin if you won a match. Sakura bit back her apprehension, joined Genma on the viewer’s gallery, and waited for her name to be called.

* * *

_Haruno Sakura vs Hyuuga Tokuma_

That… was not a fight she was looking forward to.

Tokuma looked a lot like Neji: same facial features and brown hair and holier-than-thou attitude that only served to raise Sakura’s hackles. Naturally, the first thing she did when the proctor said ‘go’ was attempt to snag him in a genjutsu, much like she’d done in the fight with Ino two years back.

But Tokuma merely activated his doujutsu and smirked.

“The Byakugan sees through all illusions.” He announced, radiating the same arrogance Sakura had seen in Neji a few months back, which only added to his similarity to the prodigy. “If that’s all you came here to do, you can forfeit.”

“What?!” she shrieked, dodging a wave of kunai as she went. “Oh, come on! As if your entire Clan wasn’t already ridiculously overpowered, there’s this too?” she despaired,

There were some quickly-smothered laughs in the audience at the rosette’s exasperation, but the Hyuuga she was facing remained nonplussed. “Resign, and keep your dignity.”

Sakura bared her teeth in a sharp grin, “I don’t think so.”

Her opponent’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, and he settled into the Jyuuken stance. “Then lose.” And he rushed at her, all grace and billowing sleeves and righteous anger.

Sakura made to leap away and practise the tried and tested ‘dodge for your life’, but then a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Anko spoke up, its message simple:

_Mindfuck him._

Grinning, Sakura changed her stance at the last second, spreading her legs and bringing her arm out in front of her, her palm perpendicular to the ground while she brought her other arm close to her right side and bent at the elbow.

She saw the exact moment her intention registered in the Hyuuga’s eyes, but by then it was too late to reverse his momentum and they met in a flurry of blows and chakra and a sound like a clap of thunder.

Sakura smirked even as she felt some of her tenketsu get blocked. Then, she summoned the same technique that had helped her run with a broken leg and started giving as much as she was taking.

_Time to even out the playing field._

* * *

“Okay, what the _fuck_?” Aoba kept glancing back and forth between the fight taking place below them and his friend, as well as the small group of equally surprised jounin who had gathered nearby. “What the hell did you _do,_ Genma?”

The brunet arched a bemused eyebrow, tearing his eyes away from his protégé to regard his friend. “I didn’t do anything. Or have you forgotten that I’d been out of the Village for the last week and a bit?”

Aoba threw his arms out in exasperation. “The Jyuuken, Genma! How the fuck-!”

“That’s not the Jyuuken and you know it, Aoba, shut the hell up!” Anko butted in, seemingly materialising wherever there was insanity to be had, a shit-eating grin on her face as she watched her student. “Kid’s good, but even she can’t pull off the Hyuuga secret technique without the Hyuuga bloodline, so don’t be an idiot.”

A few of the jounin around them relaxed infinitesimally, but Aoba glared instead, an ‘oh, really?’ expression on his face as he gestured at the floor of the arena and the two still engaged in hand-to-hand. “Then what’s that?”

Anko laughed, “Kid’s spent the last few months learning how to mindfuck Konoha’s enemies. What do you think she’s doing?” when no answer seemed forthcoming, she smirked. “It’s all an elaborate fake-out. He sabotaged her best offence, so she’s sabotaging his. And Hyuuga aren’t known for versatility, so he should be starting to panic soon.”

Then, the Hyuuga faltered, his arms falling limply by his side much to his visible surprise and Sakura jumped on that window and delivered a very un-Hyuuga kick to the man’s solar plexus, sending him flying back.

She hurried after him though she was visibly stumbling, her left hand encased in a visible blue glow while her entire right arm hung limply by her side. When she reached her opponent, she slashed, first at his upper thighs then at his calves, before she clambered over to kneel by his head and press a kunai to his throat.

“Winner, Haruno Sakura!”

Anko whooped even when the rosette fell on her bum and sat back, smiling wryly when the medics came over and murmured something to the two that knelt beside her.

Beside Anko, Aoba muttered a very vehement ‘what the fuck’.

* * *

When Sakura made her way back to the stands, Genma greeted her with a hug and a wry grin. “It seems that every time I let you out of my sight you get a little bit scarier.” He teased, to which Sakura grinned, completely unapologetic and lightly socked him in the arm, her tenketsu freshly unblocked.

“He completely blocked my mojo so I had to block his. It’s not my fault the sheer _suspicion_ of someone being able to learn the Gentle Fist style is enough to stop the Hyuuga from thinking rationally.” She defended, yet couldn’t fight the grin on her face when Genma just reached out an arm and pulled her into his side, lightly messing up her hair.

“Well done, kid.” He congratulated, and when Sakura’s face lit up, he added, “Only about four to six rounds left.” Which made her scowl and jab him in the side in retaliation. Then Anko came over and pulled the rosette away, ruffling her hair and muttering something too low for Genma to hear.

Good times.

* * *

When her next match, got called, Sakura was ready to revert to her tried and tested method of ‘hide and wait’. So when the proctor said ‘go’, she threw a smoke bomb into the space between her and her opponent, called up a Water Clone and unsealed its naginata while she herself disappeared underground, content to wait for the opportune moment.

The sounds coming from above her were muffled, so she channelled some chakra in her ears until she could clearly hear blades clashing and jutsu being called out. After a few minutes, she heard her clone’s naginata clutter to the ground while the shinobi she was fighting asked the proctor to end the fight and knew that her moment had come.

* * *

Genma had been clinging onto the rail from the moment Sakura’s opponent was announced. While Tessen Togeito was not by any means a genius or prodigy or expert in his field, he, like Ebisu, believed in having a very well-rounded skillset in all areas. Something which Sakura, even with all her training, _lacked._

But he had faith.

Yet when Tessen had Sakura in a headlock and a _very big kunai_ pressed to her neck, Genma felt the metal under his fingers give a little when he squeezed.

But when ‘Sakura’ turned into a puddle, he was not the only one startled, looking around the arena in search of the pinkette.

Suddenly, she burst from the ground below Tessen, upsetting his balance and making him sway a little, and that was enough of a window for Sakura to dart towards him and stick something to the back of his neck then jump away, the fingers of one hand coming together in a half Ram seal.

Tessen froze, his muscles locking in place. Sakura smiled, but didn’t drop the seal nor let her hand relax. Instead, she dug around her hip pouch with her free hand and produced a handful of shuriken. Finally, she spoke:

“I stuck a paralysis seal on you. As long as I’m pumping it with chakra, you can’t move. So, two options: option one, forfeit.” A snarl came from the incapacitated nin, making Sakura shrug a shoulder with a wry, not at all surprised smile. “In that case, option two, you keep being an obstinate bastard and I use you for target practise.” And she waved the shuriken she’d pulled out with a smile. “There’s plenty more where that came from, I assure you. So what’s it gonna be? Forfeit or pincushion?”

There was a moment of silence, then, from between clenched teeth, Tessen ground out, “I forfeit.”

A moment more of silence and then – “Haruno Sakura wins this match.”

* * *

Tsunade could _feel_ the shock radiating from the Hound masked ANBU guarding her back and she didn’t bother to stifle the smirk that appeared on her face. Hound had been the only one to veto Haruno’s participation in the Jounin Exams, but seeing as all of the Clan Heads and Elders had already agreed, since, despite her youth, the girl had not only met but _exceeded_ the mission requirements thanks to her stint in ANBU, his protest had been dismissed in an instant.

Now, she thought, if he still didn’t believe his old student had a right to take part in these exams, he was long overdue for an appointment with her fist.

* * *

Anko got to Sakura first this time and greeted the rosette with a devious grin and a high-five before sending her off to the others.

Genma made sure to wipe the surprise off his face before she reached him, and greeted her with another hug and a proud smile. After congratulating her, he asked – “Why the paralysis tag? Why not just do what you did in the Chunin Exams?”

He knew Sakura understood what he was getting at because she frowned before she explained. “Ino and Temari were girls. And both were around my age and build. Plus, on Ino, I had the element of surprise, so I wasn’t all that worried about her overpowering me. Temari managed to do it and I had to improvise, so if she, a _genin_ and a _teenage girl_ , managed to _throw me over her shoulder_ when I got behind her with a kunai, I was not about to pull that move on a _tokubetsu jounin_. I _like_ my life, Genma.” And though she grinned at the end, there was a worried frown pulling at her brows and Genma quickly changed the subject, babbling on about the paralysis seal and how to improve it so she didn’t have to keep feeding it a constant stream of chakra. He knew he’d done the right thing when, after about three minutes of his monologue, Sakura’s frown faded away and she hugged him around the waist and pulled away with a smile.

“Thanks, Genma.” In response, the tokujo pulled out a scroll and unsealed a brown paper bag which he pressed into her hands.

“Dango. Eat up; you’ll need the energy for the next rounds.” He advised, and merely laughed when it earned him another hug and an excited ‘thanks!’.

* * *

The next fight came far too soon for Sakura’s tastes, her reserves still not fully replenished after the previous two battles, even though the sugar from the dango helped.

"Damn it, why did you have to be an Inuzuka?” she whined when she faced her opponent, “Why couldn't you have been a Yamanaka? I'd even take a Nara, seriously." She grouched, earning a fanged grin from the man.

 

"You discriminating, girlie?" he asked, one hand absently petting the head of a _massive nin-dog oh god-!_ while another idly twirled a kunai.

 

Trying to stifle her unease, because if she’d thought that Inuzuka Hana’s ninken were giant, the dog belonging to her opponent had a good foot and a half extra height and breadth to him, she shrugged. "Nah, it’s nothing personal. I'd have liked to use my specialisation at least _once_ in this tournament is all."

 

Gaku threw his head back and laughed, his animalistic appearance all the more highlighted by the action. "You're welcome to use it, I sure as hell ain't gonna stop you from wasting your chakra." He told her, and Sakura scowled, though it was in good humour.

 

Somehow, the back-and-forth banter was putting her at ease.

 

Then, Gaku bowed shallowly and swept his arm around in a grandiose gesture. “Alright, ladies first."

 

Sakura elected to ignore the sarcasm in his voice and grinned instead, then flashed through the seals for her favourite Earth ninjutsu, sending her chakra underground till it pulled under the nindog’s feet and _pulled-!_

The dog’s – _Akihiro’s,_ if she heard correctly – paws hadn’t even sunk half way into the mud sinkhole she’d created before Gaku jumped over and pulled him away by the scruff of his neck, which was a feat in itself seeing as the dog weighed easily over fifty kilograms.

 

"Damn, Haruno, you’re not playing around, are you?” he accused, spitting out four small water bullets to clean the mud off of Akihiro’s paws before the rosette could send more chakra in to harden it. “Going for Akihiro like that was a dirty move."

 

Before, she might’ve taken that to heart, but just then all she could do was grin wryly and shrug. “Ninja.” She pointed out, then threw herself out of the way when a literal _human bullet_ sped towards her.

 

It seemed there were more downsides to fighting a veteran of the Third Shinobi War than she’d realised – despite being an Inuzuka, Gaku didn’t gloat. He didn’t call out his technique. And he _hadn’t needed_ the massive power-up Sakura recalled Kiba needing when he used that technique during the Preliminaries to the Chunin Exams.

 

Simply there one second and speeding towards her with all the inevitability and destructiveness of a hurricane the next.

 

Sakura threw herself over to the side again, rolling under one of the blurs and jumping over the second, then regained her footing and masked her chakra, hoping that scent wasn’t the predominant feature they used to track.

 

Her hopes were crushed when the next attack managed to throw her a good twenty feet away from where she’d been standing, opening up a fairly deep gash in her arm and nearly ending in her complete decapitation had she not noticed the follow-up attack at the last second and sunk into the ground.

 

The deep breath she took to calm her hammering heart turned into a shriek when the ground above her head burst open and only a quick shunshin saved her from being turned into _paste._

_Goddamn Inuzuka nose-!_

Sakura paused, then quickly scaled the wall and used the railing of the audience balcony to launch herself at the ceiling, sticking to it with chakra in her feet, an idea taking shape in her mind. She remembered that Kiba had ran out of steam quite quickly with that jutsu and had been rather disoriented afterwards. Even assuming that Gaku had twenty odd years of experience over her old classmate, he would still have to stop _eventually_. Now if she could just wait him out till he _did…_

Sakura quickly formed the signs for an Earth Clone, then after some consideration made two. She shrugged off her flak jacket, careful to empty her pockets, and gave it to one clone, then pulled her turtleneck over her head and handed it over to the second. She wasn’t the most comfortable with the fact that she ended up in just her sleeveless ANBU vest, but a quick notice-me-not genjutsu hid the bandage that covered her ANBU tattoo from most prying eyes.

 

Now, to test her hypothesis…

 

One clone dropped down to the edge of the arena, and sure enough, not two seconds later, Gaku and Akihiro were there, no doubt tearing what remained of her chunin vest to shreds. Before they could clue in to the ruse, the second clone dropped to the opposite end of the arena, and with a barely noticeable delay, man and beast followed.

 

But they were slower. Considerably so.

 

By her estimation, they’d been running the jutsu non-stop for around five minutes. The fact that they hadn’t stopped yet out of sheer _nausea_ was a feat in itself in Sakura’s eyes.

 

She felt the moment her second clone was popped, but before she could worry about what to do next, there were two ‘pops’ and Gaku was once again still and in human form. He swayed momentarily, and Sakura palmed two baubles she always carried on her and found herself wishing for her shemagh.

 

Then, she jumped.

* * *

When red powder filled the arena and the spectators’ eyes suddenly stung with tears, all Genma could do was laugh and try not to choke on the chilli that burned his throat with every breath.

 

His kid was a genius.

 

He could see, once the smoke cleared, similar expressions of surprise mixed with what he cautiously labelled as respect in the eyes of some of the other viewers and found himself grinning proudly. 

 

Gaku Inuzuka was probably the worst opponent for Sakura, moreso than even the Hyuuga kid. Not only was he a veteran of the Third Shinobi War, but he’d ran missions with the Yellow Flash and had a good twenty five years of field experience over the rosette. Plus, everyone knew that Inuzuka, much like the Aburame, would trust their ninken and bugs respectively over what they themselves saw any day, so most of Sakura’s illusions were rendered moot before she’d even had a chance to use them.

 

The fact that she’d managed to outlast the longevity of the trademark Inuzuka technique through a _trick_ and now incapacitated her opponent’s greatest advantage over her?

 

That would give Genma bragging rights for at least a _month._

* * *

When she touched down, Sakura didn’t give her opponent a chance to recover from the chilli powder – she was too low on chakra to drag this fight out much longer. Twisting her fingers through the necessary seals, she caught Gaku in a vertigo genjutsu that affected the vestibular nerve in the inner ear, then, when he stumbled, threw an explosive tag between them to clear the powder. She was satisfied that the effects would stay given Akihiro’s low whining, but visibility would improve.

 

Then, once she could see that Gaku was on his knees and his partner a few metres away with his head between his paws, she darted towards the dog. Akihiro tried to stand up and snarl at her, but she could see how disorientating being nose-blind was to the canine, so she pressed her advantage. Forming first the Ram seal then the Tiger, Sakura felt the syrup gather in her mouth then expelled it, trying to narrow the surface area while pumping it with chakra to increase its viscosity. Due to his disorientation, Akihiro was a second too slow to leap away and ended up getting caught in the trap, but before she could do a victory dance, a shuriken embedded in her unprotected back. She hissed out a breath and managed to dart out of the way of the rest of the barrage only to end up facing a much more pissed off Gaku.

 

“God damn it, Haruno, _leave the dog alone!_ ” he snarled, and Sakura had a bit of a ‘and now what?’ panic.

 

Then, she snapped out of it and did her best to _bury_ Gaku under layers of genjutsu.

 

She ran towards him the moment she was sure he was trapped, daito drawn and chakra nearly drained, and made the last few leaps with chakra even as she felt the layers get broken. She swiped with her daito and earned one, two, three cuts across relatively vital parts before her blade met resistance and her gaze met Gaku’s angry one. Then it was a matter of ‘keep-away’, because for all that her blade was longer, Gaku was still _faster_ than her. He scored shallow gashes across the bridge of her nose, across her uncovered bicep and down Sakura’s thigh before she detected movement behind her and turned, bringing her daito up with the motion.

 

Akihiro was flying towards her, less than a metre away, teeth bared and claws out, and she knew she did not have enough time nor room to dodge. Sakura had a split-second vision of her carrying through with the strike, of skewering Akihiro on her blade, of blood and tears and the death of a comrade on her hands and she knew she had to _stop._ But her momentum was too great at that point, her speed too great to stop the movement of her arm, so all she could do force numb fingers to release the daito and let it drop. She made one last, ditch attempt to turn an upwards stabbing motion into a block to protect her face before sixty kilograms of canine barrelled into her and she went flying.

* * *

The dull thud of the rosette’s head hitting the floor seemed to echo around the arena, then the shuffling sound of her rolling across a good fifty feet of the floor with the dog finally quietened down and everything was still.

 

Gaku had still not moved, kunai raised and blood dripping down his face and limbs, but his gaze was drawn to the discarded daito on the ground.

 

Sakura wasn’t moving.

 

Few had missed the moment the rosette realised that her strike would be lethal, and some had screwed their eyes shut in preparation. Death in the field was something everyone learned to stomach after a while, but death by a comrade’s hand was rare. It happened, yes, but often, it completely destroyed the survivor’s psyche.

 

But in that situation, it seemed that there was no other option.

 

Until Sakura dropped the blade.

 

The significance of the action was not lost on the audience, nor, it seemed, the rosette’s very opponent. Gaku bent down and picked up the daito, and it seemed as if the trance broke; medics descended on the scene, some taking Sakura while others carefully tended to the unconscious nin-dog, the proctor announced the match as Gaku’s win, and Genma made his way over to the infirmary, proud, worried, and something in between which he was hesitant to name.

* * *

When Sakura came to, she was in the infirmary. She stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, willing her eyes to focus and only when she was sure she wouldn’t _start crying cause she fucked up oh god so many months of preparation and she **lost** -! _did she turn to look at Genma who was, as was becoming the norm, sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair beside her.

 

“I’m sorry.” She mumbled at last, avoiding eye contact and trying to ignore how her head throbbed. In response, Genma flicked her nose, and the sharp burst of pain made her let out an indignant noise and meet his eyes.

 

“Don’t be an idiot.” He said simply, unbelievably fond and exasperated, and Sakura realised with a start that he _wasn’t angry or disappointed. At all._

“But- but I lost!” she tried to argue, but all it got her was one of Genma’s patented ‘stop talking before I make you’ looks, so she closed her mouth with a snap of teeth.

 

“Nobody, and I mean _nobody_ in that arena is going to regard what you did as ‘losing’. In fact-” and it was only in that moment that Sakura noticed two more figures that were in the room with her: Gaku and a wild-looking woman who reminded her a lot of Kiba.

 

“I just wanted to, ah, I mean,” Gaku hedged, his voice gruff as he pointedly avoided making eye-contact. “thanks, Haruno. For back then.” And he narrowly dodged the slap the woman aimed at the back of his head as he made to leave and quickly shut the door behind him.

 

The other Inuzuka regarded Sakura curiously for a moment, then bared her teeth in a fanged grin. “I’ve sent the rest of my Clan to plead your case with the Hokage. If she fails you for saving Akihiro’s life, she’ll have an Inuzuka riot on her hands.” She offered casually, then eyed Genma with amusement. “If I’d known you’d be good with kids, I’d have had you babysit my brats ages ago. Good job on that one, pretty boy. She’s got her head screwed on right.” And so saying, she followed in her clansman’s footsteps and walked out of Sakura’s hospital room, leaving a bewildered rosette and a _blushing_ Genma in her wake.

 

Instead of commenting on the absolute _weirdness_ of the whole encounter, Sakura turned to the brunet with a smirk. “’Pretty boy’?” she asked teasingly, waggling her eyebrows suggestively till Genma swatted at her shoulder.

 

“Shut up.” He grumbled, covering his face with his free hand. “We met when I was doing that _stupid forfeit_ for Rai’s bet and growing my hair out. I hoped she’d forgotten about it ‘cause she hasn’t brought it up in _years_.”

“Apparently, she hasn’t.” Sakura managed to choke out in between giggles, prompting Genma to swat at her once again.

 

“You better not be abusing my patient, Shiranui, or it’s another mission to Frost for you.” Tsunade’s stern voice broke through their light-hearted camaraderie and Genma sprang away, hands going quickly to his pockets.

 

“Tsunade-sama-!” Sakura greeted, surprised, then felt her spirits drop. “I’ve failed, haven’t I?”

 

The Godaime prodded her bruised side none-too-gently and scoffed. "Haruno, you are not going to fail the exams because you _spared a comrade's life._ " She announced, scribbling something down as she moved onto Sakura’s bandaged head.

 

"But... I lost the match." The rosette managed to say, only slightly wincing under Tsunade's exasperated glare. "Sorry, Tsunade-sama."

 

"You should be. I've got at least half of the Inuzuka Clan claiming that I can't fail you on the basis of 'outstanding moral fibre'. As if I was going to fail you in the first place, but now I've got to explain myself to a bunch of dogs." She sniffed, and Sakura absently wondered if the woman was grumpy because she was genuinely annoyed or because she couldn't show that the situation amused her. "Your concussion has been mostly treated. Still, no strenuous activity for three days minimum. Come to my office at noon tomorrow to find out how you did in the exams."

 

And so saying, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, leaving a bewildered Sakura and a hysterical Genma behind.

 

"Whaddaya know, Tsume was actually telling the truth.” He announced between chuckles. “Now sleep, kid. You look knackered.”

 

It wasn’t until the words were out of his mouth that the exhaustion of the last few weeks truly caught up with her, and her eyes were sliding closed even before her head hit the pillow, out like a light.

 

 

* * *

 

At noon the next day, Sakura was a trembling ball of nerves, not willing to risk roof-hopping to get to the Hokage’s Office for fear of falling off, she was that nervous. Even the half an hour walk to the Tower didn’t manage to calm her, and it wasn’t until she was pushing the door open and facing the rest of the jounin-hopefuls that she managed to get her breathing under control.

 

“First of all, congratulations. The Jounin Exams are not easy and are meant to test things the Chunin Exams gloss over, and they can be gruelling-” Sakura tried to pay attention, but try as she might, her eyes kept flickering to the other chunin in the room with her, to their anxious or confident faces, to the birds twittering outside.

 

“-Inuzuka Hana, fail. Haruno Sakura: pass. You possess jounin-level skills but have been awarded the rank of tokubetsu jounin for a probatory period of a year, until you get more field experience and consolidate your skills. Congratulations. Omoi Shigeru, pass-”

 

Sakura froze.

 

Then, her body moved almost on auto-pilot, collecting her new jounin jacket and moving to stand amongst the three other newly-promoted jounin, her head reeling.

 

She’d passed.

 

Her.

 

A civilian-born nobody.

 

A jounin.

 

Slowly, a grin grew on her face until her cheeks hurt with the stretch.

 

Genma was going to go bankrupt with all the dango she was going to make him buy her!


	20. Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so, enormous wait, as per, this time due to me being a lazy vacationer with no access to a computer during almost the entirety of august.   
> thank you so so much to everyone for supporting this little story of mine, i love reading your feedback, and eternal s/o to May_Flowers for being a little angel and checking up on me & suggesting a title for the previous chapter.   
> now, a 2009 ff.net-esque A/N - i will be starting uni in two weeks, and as it will be my first time i have no idea how busy i'll be nor how long it'll take me to acclimatize, so just be warned that the wait between this chapter and the next might be longer than the usual month.   
> however, next chapter will officially start off Shippuden!

A month passed since she became a tokubetsu jounin and during that month, Sakura had been sent on five missions. _Three of which_ were with Genma.

She knew that it was pretty much a given that they would work well together, seeing as she was practically a tailor-made partner for him, but she’d still been shocked at just how seamlessly they moved around each other, included the other in their plans then executed them without a hitch. It seemed that all she needed to do was think something, and Genma was already there, doing it. Her illusions and his accuracy with throwing weapons made for a deadly combination attack, just like they had planned, and yet she was still in awe. And, for the first time, Sakura found herself laughing and joking around as she completed an assassination, able to think of more than just the nauseating fact that she was already in the triple-digits of successful targets.

Tsunade's face when they got back from a mission that was meant to last a week three days early was also a perk.

For that first month, Sakura was living on cloud nine, inwardly laughing in the face of anyone who'd told her she should've held off, should've enjoyed being a chunin and whatnot, instead of rush to get her promotion. It was the happiest she'd felt since that mission to Suna with Shikamaru, a year back.

_Shikamaru._

While she'd been in recovery from the concussion she earned from her fight with Gaku, the Nara had come and briefed her on their next mission – a three-way joint Chunin Exams between Konoha, Suna, and Kiri, just as they’d suspected.

Her and Shikamaru were responsible for the Konoha part of the Exam, also like they’d suspected.

The surprise came a month before the First Stage was meant to begin.

Every time she returned to the Village, she saw more and more foreign shinobi milling about, until Tsunade called her into her office and dropped the bombshell – she now had a Hokage-enforced month off missions to design the written exam with Shikamaru.

Not implement it.

_Design it._

Not for the first time, Sakura wondered about the percentage of important decisions that were made when Tsunade wasn’t 100% sober.

* * *

When she found Shikamaru and told him just what Tsunade wanted from them, he glared at her. “Okay, very funny. Now what did she actually say?” he snarked, and it was only when Sakura’s expression didn’t change that he paled. “Don’t tell me you were serious.”

All Sakura could do was nod, then start laughing, because even if her reaction had been exactly the same, there was something to be said about sharing that ridiculous responsibility with someone like Shikamaru.

As they said; a burden shared is a burden halved, right?

Especially if the person she was sharing with was a certified genius.

* * *

A week later, that optimism was shot five ways to hell.

“This is ridiculous!” Sakura groaned as she balled up _yet another_ mock question paper they’d designed and promptly dismissed. “Certified genius, top kunoichi,” she said, pointing at Shikamaru then at herself dramatically, “this shouldn’t be so damn hard!”

“Troublesome.” The Nara huffed, lobbing the balled-up draft he’d snatched from Sakura to the waste paper pile. “The worst is that we _have_ to take this seriously, or Tsunade-sama will murder us.”

When Sakura froze, his eyes widened slightly, “No. Whatever you’re going to say, the answer is no.” he shook his head, and although Sakura had indeed been about to suggest something, she closed her mouth and pouted.

“But you don’t even know what it is yet!” she whined, letting herself act fourteen for once and tilting her head this way and that when Shikamaru tried to avoid eye contact.

“No, but I know _you_. You’re gonna say we should mess with the candidates or something.” He snorted, resuming his position of lounging on the sofa as they went through the drafts of the question papers they’d each sketched up over the week.

Sakura shut her mouth with a click, then poked his side. “That’s creepy.” Was all she said, knowing that that was _exactly_ what she was going to suggest.

All Shikamaru did was roll his eyes and throw the next rejected test at her forehead. “’Certified genius’ I believe you called me.”

“Ha-ha.” She retorted sarcastically, then sobered. “No, but just hear me out: you know what really grated at me after graduating? That what we learnt in the Academy hardly ever talked about other Hidden Villages. When we went to Kiri and Suna, I had to consult other books, other people, otherwise I’d have been stumbling in the dark in an unsafe, unstable environment and would’ve probably made a fool of myself in the first five minutes.” She paused, seeing the moment Shikamaru caught on. “So, I was thinking, pop quiz. The exam will test what they know about the other nations.”

The glint in Shikamaru’s eyes was calculative, sly. “And,” he continued, suddenly seeming completely on board with the idea despite his protests not five minutes back, “there’s no way they can know _every_ answer. We should make the pass percentage something ridiculous, like ninety, so that they’ll _have to_ talk to the foreigners.”

Sakura stared at the brunet so long he actually started fidgeting. “What?” he asked at last, flinching back a little when the rosette grinned, wide and toothy.

“I created a monster.” She observed, but she didn’t seem in the least worried or repentant. Instead, she offered her hand to him, palm perpendicular to the ground in an expectant high-five, and Shikamaru snorted, but obligingly slapped it lightly with his own. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Two weeks later, on the day of the written exam, Anko and Ibiki were staring at the copy of the question paper they had designed, eyebrows raised and, in Anko’s case, grinning evilly.

“And you didn’t think to confirm this with anyone _before_ the actual test day?” Ibiki demanded, so Sakura shot him her best smile while Shikamaru coughed to smother his laugh.

“Tsunade-sama didn’t say anything about that, sorry.” And now it was Anko’s turn to smother a snort. “Is it to your satisfaction?”

Ibiki shot her a disbelieving look, one that said very clearly that he knew what she was trying to pull and was very tempted to put a stop to it. “I’ll answer that if we don’t have an international crisis on our hands by the end of the day.” He told her dryly, and Sakura saluted, making his eyes narrow. “Am I to assume you’ve already put this into circulation?”

If possible, the rosette’s grin only grew. “Circulation? Not quite. I have, however, laid it out on the desks where the Exam participants have been told to gather, and hid it under a large-scale area-effect illusion.” She paused, noting the incredulous expression on her supervisor’s face, as well as Anko’s almost hysterical state. “A…Along with all the invigilators?”

Ibiki took a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, and Anko recovered enough to choke out a reasonably-serious “So what’s the plan, pinky?”

“Well, they walk in, see an empty room, then Shika and I come in and explain the Exam, they do it… and at the end I drop the illusion and the invigilators say who passed or failed?” Sakura tried to explain the plan her and Shikamaru had come up with, guessing by the glint of approval in Anko’s eyes that her senpai was very much on their side.

Ibiki opened his mouth to say something, but a loud call of ‘Sakura-chan!’ cut him off. All four turned in the direction of the voice, but only one recognised the woman heading towards them.

“Eri-san?” Sakura asked, puzzled, taking in the civilian woman’s haggard state and the fussing toddler in her arms. “Is everything alright?”

Eri stopped before the group, but her eyes were trained on the teenager. “Sakura-chan, I’m so sorry to ask this of you, but Rai was sent out yesterday, I can’t find Genma anywhere and the daycare I’d normally take Kei-chan to is closed today and I’ve got to go have some tests done-!”

“Eri-san.” Sakura cut the woman off, noticing that Kei was starting to pick up on his mother’s distress. “Do you want me to take Kei-chan for the day?” she suggested, trying to confirm if she guessed right.

The woman seemed to sag with relief right before her eyes, but there was worry in her gaze. “I-I did hope that you could, yes, but it looks like you’re busy so I’ll just-” before she could quite finish, she found herself short of a toddler and with a bag of melonpan in her arms instead. She blinked owlishly at the rosette, but Sakura just smiled, hitching Kei up so he rested more comfortably against her shoulder.

“Go, Eri-san. Do whatever you need and try to relax, okay? I’ll look after little Kei-chan for a few hours.”

Eri stared at her for a few more seconds then darted forward and hugged her, mindful of her son still in her arms, then waved and hurried in the direction of the hospital, promising to pick him up in a few hours.

When Sakura turned back around, three raised eyebrows greeted her.

“Babysitting?” Anko asked at last, eyeing Kei as if she was waiting for him to explode. “Better yet, babysitting strangers’ kids?”

Sakura scoffed and with a flick of her fingers, a butterfly was circling Kei’s head, just like the first time she’d met the boy. “He’s Namiashi Raido’s son, senpai.”

There was something like approval in Ibiki’s eyes while Anko snorted, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘bloody paranoid bastard’. But it was Shikamaru who drew her attention, a light hand on her elbow and a meaningful nod towards the sundial on the wall of the Academy.

“…Shit.”

They were late.

* * *

Ino was unbelievably nervous as she watched the seconds tick by, scanning the crowds to try and spot the other Rookies even as she exchanged a nervous glance with Chouji by her side. Finding themselves in an Academy classroom empty of either exam papers or invigilators had been odd, but finding out that teams could sit together had thrown her considerably more, especially as she thought back to how much effort had been put in in her first Chunin Exams to _separate_ teams. She watched as the minute hand moved to the middle between ‘1’ and ‘2’, officially making their proctor seven minutes late. Seven dreadful minutes, during which Ino couldn’t help but picture a horrible invigilator, some twisted mix of that Mitarashi woman and Morino-san and those creepy Ame guys from the previous exam and she could feel herself growing green-

“Alright!”

The doors slammed open, hitting the walls with a crack like thunder and at least half of the chunin hopefuls jumped a foot in the air at the noise, tense as they were. And then, Ino watched two _very familiar_ figures walk down the aisle between the desks, decked out in the standard Konoha flak jackets and mission gear, looking imposing and in control despite being decades younger than some of the other participants.

And then, Sakura and Shikamaru came to a halt at the raised platform at the front of the room, and Ino finally realised that Sakura’s left arm was holding up a _child._

A toddler, by the looks of it, no more than a year and a half, maybe two years old. The child seemed very comfortable in the rosette’s arms and was swatting at a butterfly fluttering just outside of his reach.

“Sorry for the delay, a minor issue came up-” Shikamaru snorted at Sakura’s side and the pinkette bared her teeth in a sharp grin, “but crisis has been averted. Now, we have been assigned the questionable honour of explaining this part of the Exams to you, so listen up ‘cause we’re only going to say this once.” And Ino couldn’t help but marvel at the way half the room immediately straightened up, clearly at attention.

Shikamaru stepped forward and, at some unseen sign, Sakura’s fingers twitched, and suddenly, a question paper and a pencil were laid out before every candidate and a surprised murmur rose up across the room. Ino tried to catch Sakura’s eyes, but apart from the tiny curl to her lip, she remained largely nonplussed, unconsciously bouncing the toddler up and down when he sneezed and started fussing quietly.

“Your jounin sensei should’ve informed you that, in the spirit of the alliance that now exists between Suna, Konoha and Kiri, this Exam will be split between these three countries. Konoha has been entrusted with the written section. The rules are as follows: you have an hour to answer as many questions as you can. The test is out of a 100. Each team must get 270 altogether to pass.” He glanced back at Sakura, and she nodded, turning to look at the clock at the front of the room, waiting till the second hand came up to the very top before she grinned and clapped her hands.

“Begin!”

* * *

_Describe the geographical position of Suna and explain how it affects its climate._

_What is the name of Kirigakure’s famous kenjutsu group?_

_Name the two founders of Konohagakure._

_Who is the current Raikage?_

_With reference to its geographical position and recent history, explain why Amegakure has the highest percentage of immigrants in its active shinobi ranks._

_What is Sunagakure’s signature dish?_

Ino gawked at the paper, disbelief and anger warring within her in equal parts. How on earth was anyone expected to be able to answer these questions?! She raised her head and glared at the duo at the front of the room, only for her eyes to grow wide when she took in her old teammate and once-best friend. Sakura and Shikamaru were sitting at the teacher’s desk, talking in low voices and not paying any attention to the rest of the room, while the toddler Sakura had brought in was sitting in her lap, back resting against the rosette’s chest so his head and torso was above desk-level, babbling quietly to himself while he attempted to finger-paint with ink on what Ino belatedly realised was Sakura’s very expensive fuinjutsu paper.

But the one thing that stuck out was the fact that neither Sakura nor Shikamaru were looking at any of the chunin candidates, weren’t trying to spot any cheaters or make sure no one was talk-

Hold on a minute.

Ino frowned as she recalled Shikamaru’s introduction to the test, realising too late that her old teammate hadn’t said _anything_ about cheating. Hadn’t mentioned the punishment nor the penalty, and, now that she thought about it, hadn’t even mentioned the ‘absolute silence’ rule that the Academy senseis had always stressed.

And, when Ino looked at some of the questions, well. There was no way she was ever going to be able to answer most of them.

Not alone.

As surreptitiously as she could, she nudged Chouji, then pointed at the question about Suna’s food. Slowly, though his hand trembled slightly, the Akimichi pulled his own test over and pointed at his answer, letting Ino copy it down. Glancing around again, Ino realised that she wasn’t the only one nudging her teammates, though most people were still sitting with their heads bent down, working quietly, or running their hands through their hair in clear distress.

Throwing caution to the wind, she turned completely around in her seat and faced a young, blue haired girl from Kiri.

“Hi.” Ino mouthed with her best smile. “How do you feel about helping each other? In the spirit of the alliance, of course.”

The girl eyed her distrustfully, exchanged a look that seemed to carry an entire conversation with the other two kunoichi on her team (and wasn’t that just unfair? An all kunoichi team!) before turning back to Ino with an adorable, gap-toothed grin.

“Deal.” She mouthed, and promptly slipped Ino her paper, while Ino quickly grabbed Chouji’s and pointed to all the answers about Konoha while she copied down the Kiri-specific ones.

* * *

“Do you think they’re gonna figure it out?” Shikamaru asked absently, pulling the fuinjutsu paper towards him so that Kei’s ink-drowned finger landed on the paper and not the table. The toddler, for all of his adorableness, had not quite grasped basic hand-eye coordination yet, and his motor functions were questionable at best.

Sakura shrugged, trying and failing to coax Kei into making shapes that at least vaguely resembled kanji or at least something recognisable instead of a big, black blob. “I dunno. You were very vague with your instructions, so at least some of them should realise it was intentional.”

“And if they don’t?” the Nara pressed, looking around surreptitiously and noticing that some people were staring to turn around and talk to those around them.

Sakura looked up from Kei’s artwork and levelled him with an unusually serious look. “Then it will highlight a very obvious fault in our educational system, won’t it?”

Shikamaru stayed silent at that, then breathed out a mix between a sigh and a laugh. “I suppose it will.”

A few more minutes passed, and at a little over the half an hour mark, there was movement from the desks. Ino stood up, consciously not looking at neither Shikamaru nor Sakura, and headed towards the end of her row, crouching next to a team from Iwagakure.

And then, it was as if a spell broke, and at least one person from each team got up and wandered to whatever team they needed help from, conversing in low voices, some laughing, others only a step away from hostile, but overall, Sakura couldn’t help but send a victorious smirk at Shikamaru when he turned back to her.

In response, he scowled and threw one of the balled up sealing tags at her head. “Shut up.”

* * *

In the end, almost half of those who sat the exam didn’t pass, and it was largely composed of those who did not come from Konoha, Suna or Kiri and were even _more_ unwilling to work together than the former. There was – and luckily so, Sakura mused – at least one team from the other Villages that _did_ pass, so Konoha wasn’t going to be accused of fixing the results. Then there were also those who point-blank refused to ask others for help or simply never looked up from their own paper and didn’t get enough points to qualify for the next stage.

On a completely unrelated note, Sakura had to admit that dropping the second layer of the disillusionment jutsu and revealing that the walls of the room were lined with grinning chunin from T&I had been one of the most satisfying moments in her career so far, and made the chakra drain that came with maintaining such a large-scale illusion for over an hour more than worth it.

Still, after everyone had dispersed and Sakura had managed to escape the T&I workers who knew and recognised her and wanted to share in their schadenfreude with her, her and Shikamaru were summoned to Tsunade's office about their, ah, _performance,_ during the first stage. To their surprise, the woman had laughed, told them the Elders were livid, and threatened them with a mission to Frost if they ever gave her such a headache again, then promptly told them that they were going to be separated for the next stage.

When Shikamaru found out he was going to Suna _alone,_ the expression on his face sent Sakura into a laughing fit that even Tsunade's glare couldn't calm.

”H-Have fun w-with Chiyo!” she managed to choke out in-between giggles, barely dodging the swat the Nara made at her head.

”Is there no way for Sakura to come with me, Tsunade-sama?” Shikamaru asked, and though he wasn't begging, not quite yet, there was a slight trace of a whine in his tone.

And Tsunade, the sadist, smirked. ”Haruno's particular area of expertise will be needed for an infiltration mission in Kumo. I'm sure you can survive two weeks with the Sunagakure Elders, can't you, Nara?”

And so it was, that the next morning, Shikamaru was at the head of a large, international party heading to Sunagakure, while Sakura was assigned to a considerably smaller group of mixed chunin and jounin and snuck out of the Village in the early hours of the morning, dressed for battle and with a grim feeling in her gut.

Two weeks later saw her back in the Village, sniffling from a cold, with a considerably higher kill count than when she’d left and the chunin from her mix-‘n-match squad jumping at her every move, while the jounin tried for understanding looks and ended up looking incredibly patronising instead.  

It wasn’t _her_ fault none of them had thought about how effective a mass-effect genjutsu could be for an assassinations specialist before.

Debriefing with Tsunade granted her a week’s break, by which time the international contingent would be heading towards Kirigakure for the final stage of the Chunin Exams and she and the rest of the Konoha-nin going to see the matches (Tsunade coming a few days later) would be able to intercept them.

During her week of Godaime-imposed R&R, Sakura caught up with Genma, met up with Izumo and Kotetsu, went to Eri-san for thank-you cookies and playtime with Kei (he really was too cute to stay away for too long) and actually found herself genuinely _resting_. Revolutionising the educational system of multiple countries at once had proved to be quite exhausting, and her stint in Kumo hadn’t given her time to quite recover from the mental hangover it had caused.

And then, her week was up and she barrelled into the house, intent on packing everything she might need quickly and leaving as soon as she could because she _missed_ Shikamaru and they were going to _Kiri_ and Kiri meant _Chojuro and Yuki-san._

It was as she was rummaging through her scroll box that Genma came in and leant against her doorframe. The first hint that something was wrong hit her when she turned to shoot him a grin and found his expression to be unreadable, the look in his eyes seeming far away.

Frowning, but deciding that he would say whatever it was that he had on his mind if she stayed silent, she went back to looking for that one scroll she was certain Yuki-san would appreciate. She hummed as she searched; if she were honest, packing since she’d learnt how to seal things into hammerspace had become more fun that stressful – it was more the question of fine-tuning what she’d need for a particular climate or person she was supposed to be meeting than actual _packing,_ since she had come into the habit of always having a week’s worth of clothes, medical supplies, rations and water on her person.

(and she adamantly did not think of _why_ she felt the need for that habit, because the moment she did, flashbacks of a pulverised leg, a feverish blue-haired boy, cheeks starting to hollow and eyes permanently bloodshot flashed through her mind, bringing with them nausea and phantom pain in her leg and a need to _runrungetaway-!_ )

Sakura shook her head, chasing the images away, and focused back on the box in front of her. Then, just as her fingers wrapped around the scroll she was after, a quiet, triumphant ‘a-ha!’ escaping her, Genma spoke, shattering the peaceful atmosphere.

“Will you tell me where you’re going, or is this another ANBU mission that you’ll conveniently forget to tell me about?”

The scroll slipped out of her suddenly numb fingers and fell back into the box, disappearing from her sight, but she didn’t care.

Not when Genma’s voice was that cool, indifferent drone that could’ve almost been sarcastic but instead just sounded _flat._ Cold.

“E-Excuse me?” Sakura asked, hating the way her voice broke, but _Genma_ and _cold_ just didn’t compute in her mind.

“I asked whether you’d be so inclined as to tell me where you’re going this time, or are you planning to disappear for another month and forget to tell me you joined ANBU while you were gone, _Jackal_?”

Slowly, Sakura turned around and found that she really would rather have lived without seeing that expression on Genma’s face. A mix of anger, disappointment and… betrayal?

“I… what?” she managed at last, then shook her head. “Are you angry that, that I joined? Or that I didn’t tell you?” when Genma remained frustratingly silent, Sakura felt the barest stirrings of anger in her chest and she clung to it, because anger was a lot easier to deal with than the horrible _guilt_ that was suddenly eating away at her.

“If it’s the former, then I would like to remind you that I can make decisions without consulting you on every step.” She bit out, guilt doubling when a flash of something that looked suspiciously like hurt passed through Genma’s eyes. “And if it’s the latter, then I don’t know if you’ve ever had Bear pin you in place with his Killing Intent while he lectured about how ANBU is a _secret_ organisation and how to _keep it_ a secret, but I _did_ and I would rather not cross that man.”

“That rule refers more to the shinobi who see ANBU as a proof of masculinity or whatnot and would be tempted to run around the Village screaming their mask name from the rooftops, not to _lying_ to those closest to you about where you were for a month!” Genma snapped, and now the anger hit her like a tidal wave, guilt momentarily forgotten when suddenly _Genma_ was angry too.

“I wasn’t _lying!_ ” she shouted, hurt more than insulted, but Genma just scowled.

“Lying by omission is still _lying_ , Sakura.” And suddenly, hearing her name from the brunet didn’t bring the usual fuzzy feelings and affection, but instead rage and indignation. 

“Do you realise how controlling you sound?!” she demanded, rising to her full height, absently noting that Genma only had a little over a head on her now. Huh. “You are not my mother! I don’t have to tell you everything!”

“And do _you_ realise how hypocritical you sound? First getting angry when I didn’t tell you about something you deemed ‘your business’, but calling _me_ controlling when I want to know about you signing up for something you are far too young and inexperienced for?”

Sakura recoiled, more startled and hurt than if he’d slapped her.

But it seemed that Genma wasn’t bothering with pulling punches anymore and kept going. “I don’t know what delusions you may have about ANBU, but I thought all my stories would’ve served to free you of them. ANBU are nothing more than glorified murderers, Sakura.”

“And have _you_ thought,” she replied, her voice miraculously steady even when inside, she was shaking with pent up emotions and _hurt._ “that maybe I _knew that_?” judging by Genma’s face, he hadn’t even taken that into consideration, and suddenly, there was wariness in his eyes. Sakura took vindictive satisfaction in driving that blade in deeper. “And have you maybe thought that I chose to join ANBU because I _am_ a glorified murderer? My killcount is in the _triple digits,_ Genma. Some of my classmates haven’t even had their _first_ yet. Did it never occur to you what training the last two years to be your partner would mean? What a solid mastery of illusions and anatomical knowledge that comes with medic training creates? I took out a dozen chunin in my last mission with a C-Ranked genjutsu and well-aimed senbon. So just take a minute to realise that maybe I didn’t join ANBU to spite you, or to hurt you, or to prove myself or whatever you might think, but because I knew that I would be good at it? And that if I took the shitty, gritty missions that come with our specialisation, then maybe you wouldn’t come home shell-shocked because your morality kicked in when they told you to kill _children_?”

When Genma had no retort at that, Sakura pushed past him, packing abandoned, and shunshined the moment she was outside the house.

Her shaken, distraught mind took her to T&I HQ, and her face must’ve been something in its own right because nobody stopped her in her path to Anko’s office, and even her senpai didn’t try to dislodge her hold when she grabbed her by the lapels of her trench coat and all but dragged her to the lowest level training ground.

(the fact that Anko would’ve probably come easily on her own didn’t matter. She _needed_ that bit of control, and, thank the heavens for her senpai, because she must’ve understood that. Or she was just amused by the situation and didn’t try to break her hold.)

They must’ve made a scene, what with Sakura flushed and breathing hard and Anko dishevelled and bewildered, but she’d puzzle over the raised eyebrows and scandalised glances when she could actually bring herself to _care._

When the heavy door shut beside her, Sakura set Anko down and dug out a handful of kunai, giving the woman a moment to clue in to what she wanted before she launched them.

She had to give it to Anko – her senpai gave as good as she got and had no qualms against playing dirty or undignified, even when Sakura stopped being able to throw straight and started something that wouldn’t go amiss in a pub brawl.

After they'd sufficiently destroyed the training ground and each sported bruises and cuts, Anko sat down next to her and broke the silence with something other than trash talk for the first time in an hour:

"Now that you've gotten it out of your system, wanna talk about what caused this?" She said, then waved her arm towards the destruction they caused in an all-encompassing gesture.

Sakura was silent for a moment, and when she spoke, she was measuring every word. "What do you know about ANBU?" she asked at last, adamantly not looking at the woman beside her.

"Enough to know we probably shouldn't be taking about it." Anko replied easily, seemingly not in the slightest thrown. But then her words actually registered and Sakura sighed, slumping.

"Right, yeah, you're right, sorry. Forget I said anything." She mumbled, trying not to curl up as she so wanted to do.

But then, Anko proved yet again _why, exactly_ she was the first person Sakura tended to go to.

"Hey, hey, I said 'shouldn't'. You should be well aware by now that I'm not in the habit of caring what people think I should and shouldn't do. Fire away." And Sakura honestly and truly could’ve kissed her then.

Still, Sakura didn't know how to word her confession, so she took a deep breath and pulled her long sleeves shirt over her head then dropped the notice-me-not illusion she’d taken to permanently having over her arm.

Anko didn't say anything, but her slow, measured breath said everything her words didn't.

Sakura closed her eyes and leant back on her hands, not in the slightest fussed by the fact she was just in her chest bindings. "I didn't tell Genma about it. At first I had no plans to, then I just...didn't have time." She ignored how weak her reasons sounded even to her, but they were valid reasons, not excuses. "He didn't say anything so I thought he hadn't realised. Then today," Sakura made herself pause to ensure her voice wouldn't quake or break. "today, he said 'a genuine mission, or another ANBU stint you'll conveniently forget to tell me about?'." 

Out of the corner of her eye, Sakura saw Anko wince at that, and fought the urge to cry with renewed vigour. 

"Ouch." The kunoichi commented, sympathy and humour all in one syllable.

It was the lack of anything that sounded even remotely like pity that made Sakura give in to the desire to curl up and rest her chin on her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. “Was I wrong?” she asked, her voice sounding small even to her own ears, but over three feet of solid concrete separated her from any potential witnesses so she simply didn’t care.

Anko frowned and fell silent for a minute, and when she spoke, her words were blunt, factual. "It was hypocritical of you not to tell him, yeah, especially after making a big deal of him not telling you about the captured foreign ANBU.”

And Sakura couldn’t quite hold back the wince because _yeah, she’d gathered that herself, thanks._

“ _However_ ,” Anko continued, “you were also in the right not to tell him. From what I know of the protocols, if someone figures out you're ANBU, you're allowed to confirm it. But active operatives don't tend to make a habit of announcing it just like that, even if it is to friends or relatives."

Sakura frowned at that, surprisingly not as satisfied as she thought she’d be at the confirmation that she was also right. “So… we're both at fault?” she asked, realising how stupid she sounded when the words were already out.

But Anko just nodded, not picking on that in the slightest. “Well, you’re both being damn idiots about this, that’s for sure.” She said, and _there_ was the Anko Sakura had grown used to. Tough love and passive-aggressive concern all in one explosive mix. “Normal parents fight with their kids all the time, pinky. Granted, it’s probably not for joining the top secret murder organisation, but my point stands. Give it a few hours, go back, apologise or not, up to you, and you’re golden.” Then, she frowned. “And stop making me your fucking relationship counsellor. I don’t get paid for this, damn it.” Another pause. “Oh, and maybe explain to Ibiki that you were angry and essentially kidnapped me and that’s why you were dragging me to the lowest-level training ground. Just, y’know, so I don’t have to.”

Sakura stared at her, momentarily thrown. “...Why would that need explaining?” she asked at last, and Anko paused.

“Uh, c’mon, you, as frazzled as you were, dragging me to the most secure training ground that _locks from the inside…_?” she explained, speaking slowly as if the rosette was daft.

Apparently she was, because she still didn’t understand what Anko thought needed explaining. “So? I didn’t want to be interrupted. And I checked, I have the security clearance needed to enter here. I don’t… understand?”

This time, it was Anko’s turn to blink slowly, then she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Nevermind. I suddenly feel sorry for the Nara. And mist-boy, now that I think about it.” When all Sakura did was make another confused noise, Anko waved her off. “Nevermind! Go blow off some steam or raid a dango stand or read or whatever. You and Genma will be fine. And if he’s still prissy, my couch is still open. Now shoo!”

* * *

Sakura wimped out. She only snuck back into the house once she _knew_ Genma was out because she’d spotted him at the market. Once in, she grabbed her pack, fished out the scroll for Yuki-san, shoved some snacks in her bag and headed to Anko’s, metaphorical tail between her legs.

But all senpai did was laugh in her face, then direct her to the couch – which was indeed as ratty as she had been warned – but folded up on the armrest lay one of the fluffiest blankets Sakura had ever seen so she was optimistic.

Surprisingly, Anko stayed up for a bit with her, chatting and telling crazy stories (“There’s no way you took out someone with a _fish,_ senpai. I’m calling bullshit.”) and gorging on a platter of snacks Anko had organised until all the food was gone and Sakura was yawning every other word.

A ratty couch was nothing to a sleep deprived teenager.

* * *

The next morning, the Konoha contingent set out towards the Land of Waves where they were hoping to intercept the international group coming from Suna. Sakura remembered, with a twinge of bitterness mixed with nostalgia, walking to Wave at civilian pace; it had taken them five days, with frequent breaks and camps. Getting to Wave with a group of chunin and above, however, took less than a day.

They indeed managed to intercept the group Shikamaru was leading, and the moment Sakura had finished greeting Temari and bowing politely to Gaara, Shikamaru was dragging her away and muttering that if he had to spend one more second with the blonde he was going to combust.

Once they were a safe distance away, the Nara proceeded to regale her with tales of how _insufferable_ Chiyo was, how much paperwork Temari made him do, and how some kid Matsuri was fascinated by his shadows and almost _stalked him._

“Puppets, Sakura.” He told her flatly, glancing back every once in a while to check that no one from Suna was eavesdropping. “She wanted me to do _shadow puppets._ ”

And at that, all the laughter that the rosette had been holding back broke free. It began slowly, with a quiet snort. Then, a slightly louder one. Then she chanced one look as Shikamaru’s indignant face and she was off, laughing loudly and staggering slightly when she attempted to hold her stomach and keep walking at the same time, only laughing louder when Shikamaru elbowed her to shut her up.

“I hate you.” He grumbled, rolling his eyes. “I bear my heart to you and you _laugh._ ”

Naturally, Sakura couldn’t even look him in the face without snorting after that, so she gravitated to the back where she found Ino and Chouji, and with only slight hesitance, she stepped right up to her old childhood friend and struck up conversation. And Ino, true to her character, needed little more than a prompt of “So, how did you find Suna?” to launch into an hour-long description of how awful the heat was for her hair, how she now sported really unflattering tan lines, how the Suna population really needed to learn about subtlety because she could sense at least one person following her whenever she went to the market, and how the second stage was ‘like a bastard child of the Forest of Death and that exam you and Shika created. We had to work together to navigate unknown terrain _and_ bring some pointless scroll back or we’d fail.”

Sakura hadn’t even noticed they had reached the edge of the peninsula until the crowd in front of them thinned and she realised that almost everyone had already boarded one of the boats in the little flotilla that had come to transport them over to Kirigakure proper.

She ended up on a boat with Ino’s team, an all-girls Kiri team and a silent trio from Iwagakure. Sakura sat with her back to the direction of travel, facing the three teams and their oarsman and pulling out a book when she noticed that Ino was more interested in admiring the islands they passed by than idle chatter.

Smiling, she settled more comfortably on the wooden bench and stuck her nose in the newest text she’d found on elemental compatibility, considerably more prepared for the half-hour voyage than she was last time.

* * *

When Ino glanced back at Sakura, she almost screeched. Not because of the rosette, because her old friend was living up to her bookish reputation in their childhood and was completely immersed in the book she was reading, but because of a figure creeping up behind her.

Creeping atop the surface of the water was a man – not an enemy, since nobody had moved to attack him yet, but not a friend either, judging by the startled gasps from the Kiri team on board. And while it was true that Ino had not had many dealings with Kiri shinobi, she was almost convinced that one of the requirements to be admitted into the ninja force was _creepiness_. The man who was currently slinking closer and closer to the rosette had long, black hair that wouldn’t go amiss on a Hyuuga but far, far wilder, blades criss-crossing over his back, loose, long hakama pants and kimono top and the wild look in his eyes gave him a dangerous appearance that wasn’t dulled in the slightest by the grin he sported, nor by the finger he raised in the universal sign for ‘ssh’ when he met Ino’s gaze. The fact that he was clearly intent on Sakura unnerved her, so she surreptitiously reached down to grab a kunai and waited. She’d give him a chance.

Still, she couldn’t help but gape as the man jumped lithely onto their boat without making it wobble in the slightest. The Kiri team behind her let out another gasp when he only grinned wider and moved to spook Sakura, but the rosette reacted first. Glancing up from her book, she craned her neck to look at the nin and shot him a bright smile.

"Yuki-san! Got stuck with the tour guide duty this time?" she greeted cheerfully, _teasingly,_ even, not in the least creeped out or apprehensive about someone who had clearly been trying to startle her.

The man laughed and settled down next to the teen, all fluid, deadly grace, and a smile that was all sharp teeth. And _Sakura_ , Sakura just smiled wider and visibly relaxed and Ino wanted to shake her.

"Just herding the flock. Still think Mizukage-sama should've made getting to mainland part of the test.” Yuki replied, never losing the slightly crazed grin, as if Sakura had just said the greatest joke. “And hey, you're getting better at this!" he added, which Ino didn’t follow, but Sakura obviously did because she seemed to _glow_ at the praise, though she assumed a mock-scowl.

"People don't tend to think clearly in test situations, and just think of the paperwork Mei-sama would've had to fill out if 3/4 of the participants got killed by the locals. You're a cruel servant if you wish that fate upon your military dictator." She chastised, but even Ino knew that she wasn’t serious. "And of course I'm getting better! If you recall, last time, I was home, asleep and doped up on painkillers. And I don't make chakra sensing when at home a habit, I'm not that paranoid yet." She added indignantly, gesturing wildly seemingly in an attempt to encompass the sheer ridiculousness of that idea.

But it seemed ‘Yuki-san’ was hung up on one particular part of her speech, the same that Ino was. "Yet?" he parroted, one eyebrow rising and grin turning sly.

Sakura, however, just waved him off. "In our specialisation, paranoia is more of a certainty than a possibility, wouldn't you say? I've embraced the fact that I'll reach that stage at some point." She explained, so matter-of-fact that Ino felt a shiver go down her spine.  But Sakura just closed her book and leaned further into the man at her side, glancing up at him as she spoke, “Think I'll be able to take you up on that spar at some point? I think Shika and I are here as more of a formality than to do the whole diplomacy shebang again, so I’ll probably have a fair bit of free time."

Yuki snorted, then snaked an arm around the rosette’s shoulders, pulling her into his side like they were old friends. "I'll never decline an offer for a live sparring partner.” He told her, surprisingly sober, before he smirked, “Most people tend to try it once then leave me high and dry when I need them most." He sighed, and if Ino was feeling particularly brave, she might’ve even said that he _whined._

Sakura huffed a laugh and shrugged, "Well, you do kind of give off this 'I'm going to send you home in a matchbox' vibe, so on one hand I'm not surprised." She offered, laughing at the indignant noise from the Kiti-nin.

"And on the other?"

For some inexplicable reason, Sakura’s smile softened as she said, "On the other, I know better." Then, the look disappeared and she clapped her hands, pulling away to grin at the man. “But you've got a reputation to uphold and everything, so I'll keep your secret."

"I'll come after you if I hear otherwise." Came the response.

Ino expected Sakura to back off or grow serious, because that was a  _threat,_ she could have _sworn_ , but all the rosette did was laugh and drop her head to rest on 'Yuki's' shoulder. 

"Mhmm, I'll look forward to it.” She said, careless, as if this was all a big laugh to her. “What's new in the land of filed teeth and awful humidity?"

Apparently, Ino mused as she watched her old friend, in the years that she hadn’t been paying attention, Sakura had gone and grown balls of steel.

* * *

Sakura had been right – while her and Shikamaru did get a nod and a wave from Mei, the actual formalities of the final stage of the Exams was being handled by other people, so the two of them had time to wander around the Village, chat with some shinobi and civilians alike and, what threw Sakura the most, get a lot of free food and produce in general from the store owners.

“Apparently, saving a Village from an economic downfall gives you celebrity status around here.” Shikamaru noted, amused and a bit embarrassed, then turned to the rosette, only to snort. “How are you _still_ stuffing your face? You’ve had like, ten of them already.”

“Pfeven.” Sakura corrected, indignant, though that did not stop her from pulling another powdered rice cake from the bag. “And they’re really good!” she defended once she’d swallowed what she had in her mouth.

Then, a flicker of powder blue caught her eye, and she dropped the bag and was off before she quite realised what she was doing.

“ _Chōjūrō_!” she cheered, barrelling into the teen and almost taking them both down.

“Sakura…?” there was a hint of surprise in the bluenette’s voice, then he gasped. “Ah, Chunin Exams, of course.”

He smiled at her once she pulled back enough to see his face. “It is good to see you. Congratulations on your Jounin promotion.” And Sakura felt her cheeks grow warm at the soft-spoken praise, and linked her arm with the swordsman’s.

“I hope you’re not busy?” she asked by way of hello, grinning when she got a head shake in response. “Good. Then I hope you don’t mind if I kidnap you to the nearest café for a long-overdue catch-up?”

“That’s a really polite request for a kidnapper.” Chōjūrō observed, smile softer now but still not dropping so Sakura counted that as a win.

“Oh, that wasn’t a request.” She assured him, grinning wickedly before she turned in the direction she’d come from, “Shikamaru!” aaaand there was the bushy ponytail, ducking out of one of the stalls resignedly and strolling towards them. “Do you want to come with? I’m kidnapping Chōjūrō to the nearest café.” She announced, and got an eye-roll in response.

“Of course you are.” The Nara sighed, forever long-suffering, nodding at the bluenette Sakura was still clinging to. “Good to see you. However,” and here, he yawned, and presented Sakura with a narrow-eyed look, “what I _want,_ right now, is a nap and an actual bed. Socialising hours will resume tomorrow from ten to five in the afternoon. Have fun and don’t do anything stupid.”

And so saying, he raised his hand in a lazy wave and sauntered off in the direction of the accommodation assigned to the Konoha block.

“I don’t think your partner likes me very much.” Chōjūrō observed, a slight frown pulling at his brows.

“Shikamaru?” Sakura confirmed, just to be sure, then scoffed, pulling her companion to the café sign she’d spotted. “It’s nothing personal – he’s just an old man in a fifteen year old’s body. He needs his naps or he gets cranky. _And_ he doesn’t have a legendary chakra sword, which might contribute to his grumpiness. Y’know, boys and their toys and all that.” Sakura babbled, not quite sure what was coming out of her mouth but just really happy that she could actually enjoy this, enjoy time with a friend in a little coffee shop, enjoy foreign foods and being a teenager.

Chōjūrō just smiled a bit wider to the point where Sakura could see the hint of a sharpened tooth poking out, so she stuffed another mochi in her mouth before she could do something stupid like call it _endearing._

_What was wrong with her?_

* * *

Genma didn’t pretend that it didn’t hurt when Anko slapped him.

Right there, in broad daylight, across the face, in the Jounin HQ.

Then; “The Hokage wants to see you. You and Hatake are to be her guards to Kiri for the final stage of the Exams.”

And suddenly, Genma wanted to smack himself.

It didn’t make any of his anger at his kid’s hypocrisy go away, but it kick-started the guilt he’d been trying so hard to ignore. Because of course it was Kiri. The Nara went off to Suna for the second stage when she got sent to Kumo, he’d _heard her_ complaining about them being separated, had gone out to buy a store’s supply of sweets and hot chocolate for the kid.

They were both idiots.

And so Genma found himself travelling to Kiri, him, Senju Tsunade and Hatake Kakashi.

But never, upon entering the Village, did he think he’d hear one of the gate guards mutter to his companion; “Apparently Yuki’s conned the Swordsman and that diplomat from Leaf into a spar. Think they’ll survive?”

Judging by Hatake’s twitch, he too had heard the man, which made the way he froze after hearing the response all that much clearer.

“Two kids, one from Leaf at that? Mei-sama better prepare a matchbox to pack up what’s left of them into.”

Luckily, Tsunade only laugh when both he and Hatake turned to her with the same request on the tip of their tongues.

“Go.”

* * *

Two after arriving – and, if anyone asked, she was _not_ the one to blame for the situation, shut _up_ Shikamaru – Sakura found herself on a training ground, weapons drawn, Yuki to her left and Chōjūrō to her right, and a surprising number of spectators hiding in the tree line.

“First blood?” Chōjūrō suggested tentatively, slowly unclasping his sword from his back and bending his knees, but Yuki waved him off.

“With mine and pinky-chan’s specialisation, that would make this really short and boring, and I haven’t had a proper spar in _months._ ” He said, waving a hand that was already wrapped around the hilt of his signature twin swords in a dismissive gesture.

“I second that.” Sakura piped up, her own hands grasping her twin daito, even as she wondered whether the _Hiramekarei_ couldn’t just snap the blade in half in one swipe. “Until forfeit or complete incapacitation?” She suggested instead, and got an appreciative, if a little wild grin from Yuki for her efforts.

And then, not waiting for any formal ‘go ahead’, Sakura concentrated, forced her chakra in the right channels even as she felt them burn and _pulled._

She felt the moment Yuki broke the illusion and she dropped one of her swords and snapped through three more sequences when she realised that Chōjūrō still _hadn’t_ broken it, then she was ducking Yuki’s swipe at her head and reaching for her discarded blade for more range and protection.

“That was basic for you, pinky-chan. -1 for effort.” Yuki commented, not fazed in the slightest by the zing of metal or the fast pace of their fight. “But seal-less? _That’s_ interesting.”

“Thanks.” Sakura grinned, breathless, then ducked just in time to avoid the giant shadow she saw coming from behind her that told her Chōjūrō had broken all the layers and was _not happy_ about being left out.

Seeing Yuki and the bluenette had both hands occupied with each other, she began peppering the ground with explosive tags then threw a hasty notice-me-not on them before she rejoined the fray, alternating between coming at Yuki’s back and Chōjūrō’s, until she suddenly found herself as the piggy in the middle and could think little more than _oh shit._

_Time for some fireworks._

_BANG!_

The dust cloud that rose up in the air gave her enough time to put distance between herself and the two considerably superior swordsmen. She renewed her attempts at snagging them in her illusions and alternated between constructing more and more layers and sending barrage after barrage of kunai and shuriken at the place she’d last seen them.

Then there was a giant chakra hammer coming _right at her oh sweet lord_ and she went with her tried and tested emergency procedure and sunk underground.

With the amount of chakra he was using, Chōjūrō was painfully easy to find, so Sakura got right under where he stood and snagged one of his ankles with both hands and _yanked._

A startled curse tumbled from Chōjūrō’s lips when she resurfaced, but then she felt the sharp sting of a blade cutting flesh and rolled in the opposite direction from Yuki’s assault, amused to note that the man now had twigs in his hair and a rip in his yukata even as her side protested at the movement.

“Eager for that one-on-one, are you, pinky-chan?” the hunter-nin teased, then he sheathed one of his swords and folded his fingers in a familiar seal.

“Don’t-!” but the clearing they were in had already filled with milky-white mist and Sakura swore. It was like Zabuza all over again.

Then there was a shift in the air behind her and instinct more than anything else made her duck, just in time for the swipe at her neck to shear off some of her ponytail instead of her head.

“Boo.” Yuki taunted, about to advance, but was instead forced to jump over Chōjūrō’s blade as the bluenette appeared behind him and swung at his waist. Ever the opportunist, Sakura sheathed one of her knives and produced chakra strings instead, hoping to take advantage of Yuki's still-airborne state. She managed to snag one of the wakizashi from his hand and throw it away from him, but Yuki merely used his free hand to grab a kunai from his pouch, use the flat of _Hiramekarei_ as a springboard and cut through the chakra strings, leaving Sakura to admire his agility even as she cursed him in her mind.

Then, it was as if the same thought passed through their mind, and as one, Sakura and the hunter-nin turned on Chōjūrō, relentless and probably more than a bit mean, chipping away at his defences until he finally made a mistake and Yuki immediately exploited it, sneaking up behind him, holding both his hands in one of his while Sakura held the tip of her blade to the bluenette’s throat.

“Do you give?” she panted, watching as Chōjūrō tested Yuki’s hold until he reached the same conclusion she had – unbreakable.

“I-I do.” He replied, and Yuki released him with more care than Sakura expected. They waited until Chōjūrō made it safely to the treeline before turning on each other.

Immediately, Sakura went for chakra strings again, hoping to rid the hunter-nin of his swords because he was far too good with them for her taste. To her surprise, the knives came easy, but then she wished she hadn’t done it because the moment his hands were free, Yuki flashed through the seals for the Hiding in the Mist jutsu for the second time, and they were enveloped in thick fog once again.

This time, Sakura tried to keep her senses on high alert while also setting her own traps, but that just made her jumpy and she ultimately missed the barrage of kunai that came at her legs and a shower of shuriken that shot straight at her head. Unable to neither duck nor twist out of the way, she let a few of the throwing stars hit her shoulders, sending a quick prayer of thanks for the padding of her flak jacket when only her upper arms were really hit, then sent a wave of Killing Intent in the direction the shuriken had come from.

Instead of the mist dropping, a laugh rang out and Sakura whirled – it was completely not the direction she had been expecting and she panicked. Then, almost slapping herself for her idiocy, she found the chakra trace of one of her explosive tags that was scattered around the ground and activated it.

Having chosen one far away, she was safe from the blast, but as the mist cleared, she found that Yuki hadn’t been so lucky and was actually a lot closer to the explosion than she’d thought.

Still, that was the window she needed.

Sakura used Yuki's momentary distraction to dart forward and stick a tag she’d been palming on his back, too low for him to reach with the sword sheaths above it. She saw the flash of alarm in the other's eyes, but before he could react or she could reconsider, she was pumping chakra onto the seal and feeling a grin stretch on her lips –!

_BOOM!_

Pale purple smoke surrounded Yuki and he started coughing, the training ground filling with the almost nauseating smell of lavender. When the smoke finally dissipated, the smell stayed behind, and Yuki turned to her with an expression torn between disbelief and amusement, and Sakura knew she looked like the cat that got the canary, but she couldn't care less.

"The fuck, pinky-chan?" Yuki asked incredulously, but the corner of his lip was twitching up so he was clearly fighting an answering grin.

Sakura tried to smooth her expression but she had a feeling she failed miserably. "Can't sneak up on me when you smell like an old lady's closet, can you?" 

Yuki stared at her for a few seconds then finally gave in and started laughing, and Sakura let the giggles she'd been holding back escape. Her giggle turned into a shriek and she barely dodged the valley of shuriken that came her way, feeling one of the stars nick her thigh. Then Yuki was on her again, grinning even as his twin wakizashi reappeared and forced her to _dodge, roll, parry, dodge, kawarimi with a discarded kunai,_ **dodge!**

The next time she gained enough distance, she flashed through the seals for the Earth jutsu that almost didn't make her flinch anymore, the waterlogged earth sucking out more chakra than she was used to, and just as it was about to solidify around his leg, Yuki jumped and it crumbled. 

Just as it seemed they were at an impasse yet again, Sakura felt the air around her grow cold, the water crystallising, growing heavier, colder, sticking to her skin and-

- _freezing!?_

She realised too late that the cold was making her sluggish, that she was almost completely covered by ice, but just as the last of what was covering her arm started freezing, she managed to snag a the last handful of explosive tags she had in her pouch and throw them a few feet away from her, and then she could move no more.

She took a moment to absently wonder  _where the hell Yuki got off, using ice techniques on her,_ then breathed as much as the ice surrounding every inch of her body allowed her, trying to calm the rising panic at being physically unable to move at all. Then, knowing she'd already wasted precious seconds, she sought out her explosive tags and  _pulled-!_

The resulting explosion made her certain she'd have at least a mild concussion and first degree burns along her left side, but hey, looking on the bright side, at least she could think straight. When she got her wits back and looked up from where the force of the blast had thrown her, Yuki was patting down his yukata which had caught on fire, but Sakura was pretty sure he hadn't been close enough to be affected unless- 

She shunshin'ed to less than a foot away and yes, that was the barest hint of worry in the hunter-nin's eyes, and Sakura felt undeniably touched. So she raised her hands up in the universal halt, then began helping Yuki pat down the still-smoking fabric of his yukata. When they were done, she stepped back a little, eyebrow raised.

"That was new." She observed, amused despite herself, referring to the ice prison he'd caught her in.

"And that," Yuki said, a slightly crazy glint in his eyes as he pointed at the crater left behind by the stash of explosive tags she'd triggered, "was  _genius._ "

Sakura grinned and shrugged, then took a few steps back, "Ceasefire's over, then?" She asked lightly, though the look on Yuki's face made her drop her hand to her weapons pouch and palm a smoke bomb.

Her suspicion was only proven when Yuki raised an eyebrow, expression devious. "What ceasefire?"

The whistle of air behind her was Sakura's only clue that she was _screwed._

* * *

Watching her fight with Yuki, Genma realised that he had been wrong about his kid.

He'd thought and spoke of her as a genjutsu mistress, someone who could bend reality to suit her will and make her targets not even see the knife coming until it was too late, but nothing more.

But now, watching her fight someone who, by all intents and purposes should've been able to kill her within the first strike – he realised something he'd failed to see during the Jounin Exams or any of their previous spars.

Sakura wasn't a genjutsu mistress.

True, she used genjutsu. That had been what she’d sought out when she was still a fresh-faced genin, what had brought the two of them together in the first place. True, she tended to start off a fight with her illusions. True, she liked to use them to confuse their target before either she or Genma dealt the finishing blow.

But she wasn't a genjutsu mistress, not like Kurenai.

Genma had watched the latter fight often enough to be certain that while her other skills were sharp enough to get her the jounin promotion, they could be summed up in a 80-10-10 ratio in favour of genjutsu over the other two. 

Sakura, however, wasn't like that, and Genma was kicking himself that it took him so long to notice.

Surviving a fortnight of enemy pursuit should've been the first alarm bell, almost a year ago. Illusions, when in a state of permanent chakra exhaustion, would have been nigh impossible.

Defeating a Hyuuga should've been the second. A _Hyuuga,_ whose eyes see through genjutsu, who stole her best asset from her in the first minute of their fight.

Qualifying for ANBU should've been the third. ANBU didn’t accept one-trick-ponies into their midst, Genma himself could vouch for that. And yet, his kid had gotten into the Assassinations squad at that.

But it wasn't until he was watching her blow away the mist with explosives that imitated a jutsu he remembered the Sand girl using in their Chunin Exams that he truly realized what he was seeing.

His thoughts whirred as he watched Sakura dance out of the way of a water dragon, throw some light-hearted teasing back and forth with an S-Rank assassin and use a jutsu he knew had been the one responsible for pulverising her leg in her opponent's moment of distraction.

No, Sakura wasn't a genjutsu mistress.

His kid was a survivor.

* * *

Sakura lost that spar.

Badly.

The swishing of air turned out to be the blade of two Water Clones that had somehow snuck behind her – one struck, while the other predicted exactly where she would move to dodge and struck too, and while both of Sakura’s hands were busy fending off the dual assault, the real Yuki managed to sneak up behind her and press close to her back, both wakizashi at her throat in such a way that even breathing deeper would’ve cut her skin.

“You ass.” She sighed, knowing a loss when she saw one. Still, that didn’t make her resist the temptation of flicking her heel up in hopes of nailing the _most sensitive area_ but Yuki just laughed and stepped away a little, not letting his knives lose contact with her throat.

“Mmhm, maybe. Question is, do you give, pinky-chan?” he whispered, body shaking with poorly suppressed mirth.

“Yeah, yeah, I give. It’s not like I’m not getting out of this one any time soon, is it?”

Satisfied, Yuki let her go, and the clones that she was still holding off with her swords turned to puddles before her eyes.

Then, just as she was turning to thank the hunter-nin for the spar, her eyes fell on two figures standing just behind the treeline and her breath caught.

Because right there, standing both a little wide-eyed and having undoubtedly just witnessed her fight and _staring at her_ were Genma and Kakashi.

Sakura turned and fled.

* * *

Kakashi found her first.

But Sakura wasn’t hiding, not really. Just… avoiding the areas most of the foreign-nin would know of and be comfortable at.

Perching beside her on the pier, legs joining her in dangling off the edge but resting on the surface of the water with the aid of chakra, signature book in hand, Sakura could almost pretend that she was twelve again, that they were back in Wave, that Zabuza was the biggest threat she’d ever faced and Sasuke riddled with senbon the most traumatising thing she’d seen.

But as it was, almost two and a half years had passed since that moment, and the man next to her could have very well been a stranger.

She didn’t know how long they sat there, but eventually, Kakashi broke the silence.

“You’ve grown worryingly fond of explosive tags.” He observed, not raising his gaze from the porn in his hand, but even Sakura could see the tension in his shoulders when she chanced a glance at him.

She snorted. “First-degree burns are well within my skillset, Kakashi-san.” She assured him, caustic and sarcastic and _bitter._

She revelled in the twitch the change of honorific earned her, but it was followed almost immediately by an even more forcefully-blasé statement.

“An ever-expanding skillset, from what I hear.”

This time, Sakura narrowed her eyes but still refused to turn her gaze away from the sea in front of her. “I’ve found that dependence on one party trick can get you killed.”

“That’s what the team is for.” Kakashi replied evenly, as if she was being particularly slow. “And chunin are never sent on high-level solo missions.”

“No, you’re right.” She agreed. “But jounin are. And I’m a jounin now.” Then, she paused and bared her teeth in a crude mockery of a smile. “As you well know, _Hound-taicho_.”

It was as if she’d slapped the man – he recoiled, then his visible eye narrowed. “How do you-?! Oh.” And now, that eye twisted with an emotion Sakura couldn’t quite identify; guilt? Remorse? Regret? Before he spoke. “The only rookie in Assassination. Jackal.”

She let the humourless grin fade slightly as she nodded. “Got it in one. Your chakra is rather distinctive. As are the rumours.”

They lapsed into silence again, but just like before, Kakashi broke it after only a few minutes.

“Why the rush? Why couldn’t you have stayed- why did you change so much? There was no pressure, Sakura.” He asked, looking physically pained.

Sakura, however, was tired of that question. She wasn’t rushing, she was just-!

She was scared.

Suddenly, with that realisation, it was as if all the barriers went down. “There was _all_ the pressure! On our first mission outside the Village, we came across an _A-Ranked_ criminal. Because _Orochimaru of the Sannin_ appeared at my Chunin Exams. Because my teammates were the son of the Yondaime who was, coincidentally, the host of the Kyuubi, the last of the Uchiha whose brother belongs to an S-Ranked criminal organisation, and _Nakamagoroshi no Kakashi_ who graduated the Academy at five, became chunin a year later and jounin at _thirteen_. And I was a _civilian._ A _paper-ninja._ Don’t you see? I’d have died ten times over if I stayed as I was.”

When she finished speaking, Kakashi’s complexion was ashen.

But Sakura had shared too much – it had taken Inoichi almost a year to get her motivations out of her and she trusted the Yamanaka Clan Head far more than the man who in his teenage years had earned the moniker _Friend Killer Kakashi._

So she flipped the metaphorical knife so the blade faced him. “And,” – _she tested the hold–_ “because whatever you may think, whatever parallels you think you see, I am not _her_.” –s _tabbed_ – “I am not Nohara Rin.” –and twisted.

A split second later, her back collided painfully with the quay and there was a hand pressing tightly into her throat; “Don’t you dare-!” but then, the seal she had stuck onto the back of the Kiri headband around her neck for this precise reason activated, and a flash of bright light later, Kakashi was thrown a good fifty feet away from her with the force of the chakra field that his touch triggered.

“Sorry,” she bit out, sitting up and bringing a green-glowing hand to her throat. “it’s nothing personal. Just a bit touchy about this area – killed too many people using the throat, you know how it is.” And to add to the nonchalant insolence, she shrugged a shoulder.

Kakashi, to her surprise, looked like that knowledge physically pained him, though the anger still simmered just below the surface.

“Half of what you said is classified. The other half isn’t talked about. Tell me why I shouldn’t report you to Tsunade-sama.”

“What for?” Sakura laughed, though the threat stung more than she’d care to admit. “Have you forgotten what my other day-job is? I’m a Senior Interrogator. Nothing’s sacred to someone with a Level III clearance level. It’s all technically above-board too.”

Kakashi stared at her for a moment longer, his gaze far more piercing than she’d like to admit before he seemed to deflate and huffed something than may, once, have been a chuckle as he settled back down next to her.  

“That’s going to paint a target on your back, I hope you know.” He told her flatly, but Sakura waved him off.

“Assassin, remember? Yuki-san’s an exception; normally, the targets don’t live long enough to write your name down in the Bingo Book.” She grinned wryly. “Genma’s been in the field for two decades and he’s still not in it. I’m safe, sensei.” She explained, the old honorific slipping out against her will.

Kakashi’s eye crinkled, but it wasn’t in humour. “For now.”

Sakura didn’t quite know what to do with that rather ominous statement, so she rose to her feet with a sad smile. “We’ve said what we needed, I think. So we can either keep going as we have been and ignore each other, or we can get over this. I am not who you thought I was, I could have maybe involved you a bit more; there, it’s out. Now, we can at least try for a professional relationship, or we can ignore this conversation ever happened.”

Kakashi stood up too, and his eye crinkled into the familiar eye-smile, but this time, it didn’t feel forced nor fake. “I’d rather like to be able to talk to my old student, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura backpedalled slightly at that, then narrowed her eyes and stuck out her hand. “This by no means a ‘forgive and forget’, sensei. But… a new page?”

Kakashi smiled and clasped her hand, then before she could even blink, he was gone.

Sakura huffed, half amused, half offended. “Bastard.”

* * *

Still buzzing with the adrenaline of her monumental conversation with Kakashi, Sakura almost bulldozed over Genma in her attempt at reconciliation. She weathered the anger and frustration and the hurt when the brunet threw her words back in her face, then startled when she was roughly pulled into a hug.

Turns out Anko may not have been the sole one responsible for her passive-aggressiveness.

The tournament matches ended up being almost an afterthought in the wake of all that Sakura had accomplished during her trip to Kiri, but she still dutifully went to watch them and cheered for all the Konohagakure participants.

She was almost bouncing with joy when, at the end, after Hyuuga Neji finally bested the Iwagakure participant in the final round and the winners were announced, all of the Konoha 11 got promoted.

Sakura watched the newly-minted chunin cluster together in a group hug, Ino even going as far as to drag the ever-stoic Neji into the fray, and their laughter audible even up in the stands where the rosette was.

Finally, after two and a half years, Sakura felt at peace. With Shikamaru on one side and _Chōjūrō on the other_ , her friends happy and working together, with her conflict with Kakashi resolved and with Genma as her official partner and her as the first jounin in their graduating class, she was exactly where she wanted to be.  


	21. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> helloooo dear readers~! so i realise that it's been almost two months since the last update, but as i did warn y'all, i was starting uni and lemme tell u, it was a wild ride. still is tbh, so bear with me.   
> as always, thank you to those who have supported this little story of mine, it's always incredibly encouraging when i read through your feedback or see some of u catch on to a fledgling idea that i had or a lil plot bunny, so keep those comments coming!  
> this chapter is a little shorter than most, but that's not for lack of trying - i am not a fan of retelling cannon, and i also wanted to set the mood for how most of shippuden would go. nevertheless, i hope you like this installment as much as you seem to have liked the other ones~  
> much love!

A week after they got back from Kiri, Genma showed her his _Hiraishin._

 

Sakura’s jaw had hit the floor, then she’d ended up in various trees, bushes and general shrubbery _sixteen times in a row_ and had a sprained wrist and multiple strained muscles to show for it when she’d tried it herself. She squashed down the disappointment before it even fully registered, then took Genma out for a celebratory dinner because the man had _singlehandedly reconstructed a legendary technique with nothing but hazy memories and a dead man’s notes to help him_ and that deserved a lifetime supply of free food if she had anything to say about it.

 

(the twinge of bitterness that reared its head and screamed that she’d been _promised_ that technique, that Genma shouldn’t have kept it from her, that it was _her right_ scared her. So she made sure Genma didn’t see a hint of it on her face, and kept the stream of praise and encouragement and inquisitive questions up for the whole time they were in the restaurant until Genma pulled her into his side and thanked her for her support so _sincerely_ that she felt a lump form in her throat and a wave of guilt so profound that she wanted to _cry_ -!)

 

A month after that, Genma finally made the jump to full jounin, right after getting chewed out by Tsunade because _the Hiraishin, Shiranui? What next, you gonna take a shot at Mokuton and conveniently forget to inform anyone about it?_

 

Three months after that, right after Sakura’s fifteenth birthday, her probation as tokubetsu jounin was up. As a sort of ‘last-hurrah’, Tsunade assigned her, Anko, Tonbo and three other T&I shinobi on a reconnaissance mission to what remained of the Land of Rice Fields to investigate some info Intelligence dug up about Orochimaru’s empty bases.

 

If anyone asked, that was the precise moment Sakura would cite as the metaphorical match that was thrown on the pyre.

 

Alternatively, the moment when everything went wrong.

 

Because they did find Orochimaru’s bases. But Intelligence was wrong.

 

They weren’t empty.

 

Whatever Orochimaru did to the Uchiha, these must have been the test subjects. Suddenly, Sakura understood just _why_ Genma had come home so shaken, so broken after his ANBU team infiltrated that base: the failed experiments were monsters, yes, undoubtedly so. But right before Sakura's team broke into the base, they were children. Children sleeping in their own filth, locked up in cages or on wooden cots, dressed in rags and absolutely filthy. The moment they registered the presence of intruders though, their skin burned, their chakra tripled, their restraints broke as their bodies grew and contorted into something decidedly not human.

 

Then, the fighting began.

 

Somehow, all six of them ended up outside, the curse marked children along with them – it was easier, Sakura thought, to use lethal jutsu when the sunlight caught on the hideously deformed faces and made them look like the monsters they were and not the children they’d first stumbled across.

 

At some point, Tonbo went down, and Sakura knew at that moment that they had to retreat. They could've kept fighting, but guarding an injured comrade and dealing with overpowered monsters would only end in more casualties. Calling for a retreat, she spammed the field with her explosive tags, waiting until her comrades were out of reach before she unleashed the contained inferno of her seals, then methodically went to every fallen body she came across and slashed at the main arteries, robotic and thoughtless and deadly.

 

Then, just as she was straightening up from one of the last bodies, she heard the unmistakable sound of chirping birds, and a familiar voice calling what she knew was Anko’s strongest technique.

 

Sakura froze.

 

As if in slow motion, she turned around and her heart leapt to her throat: about fifty metres in front of her was Anko, snakes extending from both sleeves of her trench coat, her face smeared with blood and gore and a determined scowl pulling at her lips.

 

And opposite her stood no-one other than Uchiha Sasuke.

 

His entire body sparkled with electricity, shocking every one of Anko’s snakes that got close enough to him, his hair longer and fuzzing with static and the expression on his face colder than Sakura had ever seen in their genin days. Her eyes caught on the crimson of the Sharingan and she caught on to what the Uchiha was going to do a second too late. Her hands came together for a henge and a replacement when Sasuke was already using the Sharingan-aided agility to dodge the snakes and get to Anko, the Chidori surrounding his body gathering instead in his hand, and Sakura heard the technique connect a _millisecond_ before her own technique caught and she found herself staring into Sharingan-red eyes of someone she once thought she _loved_. And then she _moved,_ thanking the heavens for the padding provided by her flak jacket as she managed to punch Sasuke’s wrist with a chakra-coated fist before his Chidori hurt her, successfully dispelling it. Then it became the question of spamming the Uchiha with explosive tags and burying him under genjutsu long enough for her to get to Anko _who hadn’t moved from the place where Sakura’s replacement had dropped her off to and oh god this wasn’t good this wasn’t a battle she wanted to fight Tonbo was already down and Anko-!_

Sasuke’s strategy of eye-and-kai had one weakness: in the few seconds that it took him to spot the genjutsu, he wasn’t looking at his surroundings. So the moment he came within range of one of the stronger tags Sakura had managed to drop, she didn’t waste a single second.

 

The moment the tag detonated, Sakura was shooting off towards Anko, gathering her up then disappearing in a series of staggered shunshins that ate away at her chakra but she couldn’t, _wouldn’t stop_ even as she tried to navigate _south south south_ , Leaf’s border guard the only thing on her mind.

 

After an hour of non-stop, panicked shunshin and four consecutive soldier pills, the moment Sakura saw a Konoha shinobi running towards her from the border post, she crumbled.

 

Then, her world went black.

 

* * *

 

When she woke up, she wasn’t even surprised by the white walls and steady beeping that greeted her. Chakra exhaustion had become such a common injury that she barely noticed it anymore.

 

Finding out that Anko was in a coma and likely to be paralyzed from waist-down upon waking up because of the Uchiha’s chidori, however, was enough to get her heart to start beating fast enough that one of the nurses came running in, a look of alarm on her face.

 

Sakura was _furious._

And while Tsunade had been quick to assure her at the debrief that this officially changed Sasuke’s status to a B-Ranked missing-nin and that there was _nothing the Elders could do to change that,_ there was the matter of personal revenge that Sakura set her mind to.

 

 _No one_ hurt her senpai and got away with it. _No one._

And yet, she wouldn’t have done anything if it weren’t for Inoichi. When Sakura went to him after being dismissed, all she was hoping for was a way of dealing with the grief and helplessness that she felt upon getting the news about Anko. What she wasn’t expecting was the conversation that took place right as she was getting ready to leave;

 

 _“Now that your old teammate is coming back, don’t you think he’ll want to go after your_ other _teammate?”_

_“I… hadn’t thought of that… but you’re right.”_

_“Mmhm… and do you have a plan for how you’re going to do once that happens? When you see him again?”_

_“I… don’t.”_

 

And that had been enough to get her thinking, and when she realised that the only reason the Uchiha had been able to hurt Anko was because of his dojutsu, because Anko was _just that good,_ she suddenly knew what she had to do.

 

It was unheard of, blasphemous, even. But she would do it. And she would make it _hurt._

A week after being dismissed, having slept maybe twenty hours over the seven days and with ink smudges on almost every bit of visible skin, Sakura stared the two Hyuuga  gate guards down and demanded to be let in and allowed audience with Hyuuga Hiashi, notes and annotated seals clutched in a death-grip in her hands.

 

The Hyuuga Clan Head almost sent her out when she first presented her idea.

 

Then he said that what she wanted was impossible.

 

But Sakura had stopped believing in the word after she turned thirteen and stood her ground.

 

Eventually, Hiashi caved, something like respect shining in his eyes as he made her swear that what he told her would not leave the room they were in.

 

Sakura held her fist over her heart and smiled, the sweet taste of revenge sending her nerves singing with elation as she took notes.

 

The Uchiha would regret hurting her senpai. She would make sure of it.

* * *

Sakura the genin had been smart, practical, but weak and easily distracted. She had become a kunoichi for something as silly as a crush, and as petty as a childhood rivalry. She had worn impractical dresses because they were _pretty,_ had kept her hair long and loose because it was _pretty,_ had worn flowery perfume because it smelt _pretty_ and had adamantly refused to take part in weight training because muscles were _not pretty._

 

Then, Sakura the genin got a reality check.

 

Sakura the genin post-Wave had been scared. She had had the unpleasant realisation that just her brains were not enough to save her, that her manicured nails were too weak to even scratch an opponent, much less dislodge his hold and that all her skillset boiled down to was _hold a kunai and cry_. So, Sakura reconsidered. She read and she studied and she made notes and tried as she might to picture what she was learning in a battle scenario but it seemed futile until-

 

Until Genma.

 

With Genma, Sakura became something more than a scared genin. Something more than a girl with a crush. She became some _one_ who was one of the only _two_ to be promoted to chunin.

 

Sakura the chunin was still scared. Because suddenly, it wasn’t an A-Ranked missing-nin who turned out to have a good heart who was her bogeyman. Now, it was an S-Ranked _Sannin_ who brushed aside her best efforts like they were flies, a pest more than a problem, who infiltrated the Village like it was _nothing,_ who effortlessly controlled Summons the size of the Hokage Mountain.

 

But Sakura the chunin was also wiser. She wore green to blend in with the forests, she tied her hair back because it was safer, she carried a pouch filled with ten times the equipment she ever _owned_  as a genin _,_ much less _carried_ in one go. Sakura the chunin had a specialty, had responsibility, had managed to unite not one, but three Villages under a common goal. Sakura the chunin was a _ninja._

Sakura the tokubetsu-jounin-and-part-time-ANBU-member was called a _prodigy._ A civilian-born kunoichi, tokubetsu jounin at _fourteen_ and an ANBU assassin _._ She went on missions with a partner who was _her own,_ who respected her and her decisions despite having been in the field longer than she’d been alive. Sakura the tokubetsu jounin was no stranger to paranoia, to nightmares, to PTSD, to hurting and bleeding and killing for her Village. This Sakura knew her strengths and played to them; she gained new skills, worked on old ones.

 

Sakura the jounin-and-part-time-ANBU-member merely expanded on those skills. Her dedication to genjutsu meant that she could ensnare chunin and some jounin-level shinobi with nary a flick of her finger. Her illusions had grown into something that could fool, comfort, and ruin in the same instance. Bukijutsu was something she nurtured, and it became something she readily fell back on if her illusions were for whatever reason thwarted. She insisted on maintaining her versatility in weapons she used, but Yuki's insistence on choosing one she favoured had swayed her a bit and she felt the most at ease with a daito in her hands. Sakura the jounin had also figured out an alternative to Genma's  _Hiraishin,_ an idea based on the reverse-Summoning technique that would never allow her to jump around as easily and instantaneously as Genma could, but which enabled her to stick a seal on the Main Gates and jump over half of the Land of Fire in less than three seconds, landing within her Village's walls almost out of chakra but  _whole and safe and able to do the Hiraishin._

 

And yet, her reserves still meant that despite all the techniques she could theoretically pull off, in practise, five B-Rank ninjutsu was enough to have her teetering on the verge of chakra exhaustion. She had learnt to accept that. 

 

But that didn't mean she would make it easy for others to best her. 

 

Fact of the matter was, Sakura no longer believed in playing fair. Honour was for samurai and had no place in the shinobi world.

 

So she played dirty. 

 

It was true that, unlike Genma, she couldn't fight with just ink. Instead, she carried pre-made seals for an extra edge, and sealed scrolls full of poison-filled baubles. To counter having her long hair being used against her, she braided it every morning and threaded poisoned ninja wire through the braid, harmless to her but strong enough to ensure that those who grabbed it would not be grabbing much else in their lives. Hopefully ever. And Sakura, unlike some, was not above throwing dirt in her opponent's eyes, nor going for one-hit knock-outs in taijutsu fights. Throat, solar plexus, eyes, back of the knees, temples - she used and _ab_ used them all. Graceful, flowing katas had no place in her repertoire unless to hone muscle memory. 

 

Sakura the jounin's uniform was a mix of patriotism, practicality and paranoia all in one. Close-fitting charcoal turtleneck, loose grey pants and black boots made up an almost-standard attire. Coupled with that, she wore a grey chest armour reminiscent of her ANBU uniform, arm guards, plated gloves and her jounin flak jacket thrown over the top. Her medical pouch and scroll case were clipped to her belt, her kunai and shuriken holsters wrapped around her thigh, her daiito hung across her back and her wakizashi was secured to her other thigh. By appearance alone, Sakura screamed "war child". (Genma had long since learned that Sakura was almost overly receptive to his advice and offhand comments and he realised that the reason his partner looked dressed for war every mission was because he never stopped stressing that she should be prepared for every eventuality. The fact he did the same only served to reinforce that point.)

 

And when the two of them became renowned for coming back in one piece from missions some would have deemed as _suicide,_ people no longer dared to call out their paranoia.

 

But competence, just like it had for Shikamaru, just as it had for Kakashi, and all the other geniuses before them, came at a steep price.

* * *

 

When the Village gates and the small crowd gathered before it came into view, Naruto would’ve taken off running had it not been for Jiraiya’s hand holding on to the back of his jacket. The closer they got, the more he could see the likes of his friends, the old Rookie 9, as well as Neji and Bushy-Brows and Kakashi-sensei, all waiting for him to come back home.

 

It wasn’t until he’d been hugged and whacked on the back and had his hair mussed multiple times that he dared ask about the most glaring absence in the small group that came to greet him.

 

“Where’s Sakura-chan?” silence greeted his words. It seemed that nobody quite knew what to answer him.

 

Then, there was a flurry of movement and out of nowhere, two figures appeared in front of the gates, too quick to have used a shunshin.

 

Naruto’s eyes fell on the painfully familiar pastel-pink head and the man at her side who was using the rosette as a crutch, a sluggishly-bleeding wound in his side visible even through the thick green material of the flak jacket. Naruto was about to run straight to his teammate, but before he could, one of the gate guards beat him to it.

 

“Sakura!" he jumped up and materialised at the teen’s side with one of the quickest shunshins Naruto had ever seen. When Sakura raised her head and met his eyes, a tired grin lit up her face.

 

"Zumo-chan." she sighed with obvious relief, her eyes falling to the gates in something akin to wonder. "It worked..." she mused, before she eyed her comrade, worry clear in her gaze, "Would you be so kind as to get a medic unit here please?" and the chunin's didn't need to be told twice – he was gone before she even finished her sentence.

 

The other guard, the one with hair that Naruto personally thought could put a porcupine to shame, stepped up, grabbing the nin's other arm and swinging it over his shoulder, helping Sakura bear the weight of her limp partner.

 

"How far d'you jump this time?" he asked once the brunet was settled and Sakura grimaced, looking surprisingly guilty as he kept talking, "Valley of the End? Land of Whirlpools maybe?"

 

"Try the border of Stone and Waterfall." she grumbled, prompting the raven's eyes to widen to the point of being comical.

 

"Damn." he whistled, urging her to let him fully support her partner. "You beat your record by an entire _country."_

 

Something like a laugh bubbled out of the rosette, but it was followed almost immediately by a coughing fit. "That I did." she agreed weakly, before she paled even more. "Tsunade-sama is going to beat my face in, isn't she." she asked glumly, but her tone was far from questioning.

 

"Probably." the first brunet materialised by her side, an apologetic look on his face just as a group of medic-nin complete with stretchers and all ran towards them. "She's also going to want to know why you thought you had enough chakra for jumping across two countries but not for finishing a healing."

 

Sakura groaned, tired and long-suffering and Naruto thought he heard something that sounded like 'just bloody great' before she too, the second she was left to take a step forward without her teammate's weight, stumbled and passed out, saved from smacking face-first into the ground only by the brown-haired chunin's reflexes.

 

"Huh." ‘Zumo’ murmured when his hand came away from Sakura’s waist wet and stained crimson. "Seems like the only thing keeping her up was sheer power of will. _Again._ " he observed, exchanging an incredulous look with his partner who merely laughed.

 

"Are you really surprised?" porcupine-head, as Naruto had inwardly dubbed him, grinned. "Those two are the Hokage's favourite jounin partnership for a reason."

 

And then the medics were amongst them and Sakura and her partner were whisked away to the hospital while the chunin returned to their posts, as if unaware of the chaos their declaration had wrought.

 

Shell-shocked, Naruto turned to those of the Rookies who had been able to gather to greet him, eyes wide. "... _jounin?"_

 

And, perhaps a little vindictively, Shikamaru smirked, inwardly regretful that he didn't bring a camera to capture the blond's disbelief and frame it for Sakura's next birthday.

 

"Jounin." he affirmed. 

* * *

The longer Naruto spent in Konoha, catching up with old friends, getting back into the swing of annoying Tsunade, and alternating between pestering Kakashi-sensei and Jiraiya for extra training, the more the absence of one particular person made itself known.

 

_Sakura-chan._

The rosette was notoriously elusive, even more so that Kakashi had been during their genin days. A day after seeing her at the gates, Naruto went to the hospital thinking he could surprise her, since she most likely hadn’t noticed him when he’d arrived. When he got to the hospital, he found that she had already been released, and the nurse at the desk refused to give him her home address.

 

That didn’t mean that he didn’t see her around the Village over the next week.

 

And yet, every time he saw her, he couldn’t bring himself to approach her.

 

The fact that she seemed to be permanently busy and rushing from place to place wasn’t helping matters any.

 

The first time he saw her, she was walking around with a toddler holding onto her hand and chatting amicably with a tiny civilian lady while her other hand was carrying three shopping bags that had Naruto gawking. (the idea that the rosette was using chakra didn’t occur to him until later)

 

The second was, to his great shock, with Shikamaru. The Nara seemed to have been recruited as Sakura’s reluctant steed and was giving her a piggyback ride around the Village while she instructed him where to go. But to Naruto’s surprise, none of the villagers seemed remotely disturbed by the scene, and Shikamaru wasn’t complaining or rolling his eyes or cursing up a storm – if he was seeing right, the brunet seemed genuinely amused as he followed Sakura’s instructions to a T and seemed almost painfully _fond_ whenever she laughed, and Naruto wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

 

The third time, Sakura was with brunet that Naruto was certain he recognised but he had no idea where from and a man who reminded Naruto of Ebisu by appearance, but who was clearly ribbing Sakura about something judging by the vein that was steadily pulsing in her temple. The brunet had his arm around Sakura’s shoulders, laughing silently at the argument that was clearly taking place between the pinkette and Ebisu-lookalike and Naruto subtly edged closer till he could hear the tail-end of the conversation before they got too far away for him to follow;

 

“Aoba, I swear to god I will tell Iwashi that you fancy him if you don’t shut the fuck up about Chojuro!”

 

“You wouldn’t dare…”

 

“Keep talking shit and you’ll see!”

 

And that was enough to send Naruto almost walking straight into a lamppost in his surprise.

 

The fourth time, she was walking arm-in-arm with a foreign-looking blue-haired teen that Naruto could freely admit to never having seen before and _sweet lord that was a gigantic sword strapped to his back what was Sakura doing-!_

 

Yet the level of comfort between the two, the soft, unguarded look on Sakura’s face and the way she seemed to be holding onto the teen's every word sent a lance of pain through Naruto’s chest and he had to look away for a moment. When he turned back, the duo were nowhere to be seen.

 

The fifth time was with Shikamaru as well, and that was the point where Naruto decided he had no idea what happened to his teammate over the three years he’d been away. Naruto had been walking through the forests, familiarising himself with the Village once again, when he stumbled into a meadow and spotted a familiar head of pink. Slipping behind the tree line, he gawked.

 

Sakura was laying on her back in the middle of the clearing, flak jacket off, her hair down and spread around her like a halo, and Shikamaru’s head pillowed on her stomach. The Nara was similarly relaxed, dressed in loungewear instead of his shinobi gear, his hair also down from its signature ponytail so Sakura could run her fingers through the brown locks. Naruto could see their lips moving so they were clearly talking, but no sound was reaching him. In fact, it was almost unnaturally silent. Naruto debated stepping out, announcing his presence, but the scene was too intimate. He couldn’t do it. Turning on his heel, he walked away from his old teammate, his head a mess of unformed questions and confusing thoughts.

 

It all came to a head when Kakashi called a ‘team meeting’. Sakura was _late._ As in, later-than-Kakashi late.

 

When she showed up, her flak jacket was nowhere in sight and instead, Naruto was treated to the sight of the rosette in a sleeveless black turtleneck and loose black pants and over the elbow fingerless gloves that did nothing to hide the musculature of her upper body. An odd shadow passed over the visible part of Kakashi’s face when he saw her, but it was gone too quickly for Naruto to dissect.

 

“Right!” Kakashi clapped, the sadistic cheerfulness that Naruto remembered from their genin days making a reappearance. Then, he produced two bells from his pocket. “Since two of my ducklings are finally together and back in the Village, I thought you could take another try at this.” He said, waving the bells in front of them like a taunt.

 

“Alright! Team Seven is back, believe it!” Naruto cheered, then rushed at his teacher.

 

But just like with their genin test, Kakashi caught him easily and threw him back by the scruff of his neck. “I haven’t said start yet.” And he smiled and Naruto thought he heard Sakura snort, but then Kakashi clipped the bells onto his waist and waved. “Start!”

* * *

Fighting Kakashi was exhilarating. No matter what Naruto pulled out or how many clones he summoned, the jounin always batted them away and came out fighting, even rendering his new and improved Rasengan moot when he simply kawarimi’ed with a log when Naruto tried to hit him with it. It just showed how amazing Kakashi was, and though Naruto was a bit disappointed that Sakura hadn’t joined in the fight, standing at the treeline and observing instead, he was too absorbed in his fight with Kakashi to really pay it much heed.

 

And then, Kakashi’s kick connected with his abdomen and Naruto was sent flying across the field, but before he could scramble to his feet and retaliate, Sakura was suddenly _there,_ ducking under Kakashi’s still extended leg and grabbing his ankle, then twisting sharply and throwing the jounin towards the treeline.

 

All within less than a second.

 

Kakashi managed to twist in the air and harmlessly bounce off the trunk, but then Sakura was on him the moment he landed and they devolved into something that was more like a dance than a fight before Naruto’s eyes, all deadly grace and clinking of steel.

 

The blade that Sakura was wielding wasn’t the naginata Naruto recalled from their Chunin Exams but something more like a katana though he didn’t know _what,_ but whatever it was, she was keeping their teacher on the defensive.

 

Then Kakashi blew a _literal fireball_ in her face and the status quo shifted (Naruto’s heart may have also stopped for a second).

 

But then Sakura reappeared from _underground_ and threw a handful of tagged kunai with unerring accuracy at _one particular tree_ on the other side of the clearing, and Naruto was about to ask what she was doing before a shadow leapt out of the branches right before the tree was swallowed by an enormous burst of fire from the explosive tags.

 

Just before Kakashi’s feet touched the ground, the spot where he was about to land erupted with sharp earth spikes and _skewered him_ right through the chest but just as Naruto’s shout of horror got caught in his throat, skewered Kakashi melted into mud and Sakura was suddenly ducking, rolling out of the way of a swipe of real Kakashi’s tanto that would’ve taken her head off had she not moved. Twirling, she once again advanced with her sword, alternating between dodging and attacking, and Naruto watched as it quickly became apparent that while Kakashi was faster, Sakura was the superior swordsman.

 

It seemed Kakashi noted that too, because with one strong push, he forced the rosette a fair distance away and sent a small hurricane, with winds sharp enough that Naruto felt them cut through his jacket, straight at the rosette.

 

When the dust cleared, Sakura was nowhere in sight.

 

Suddenly a hand shot out from the ground by Kakashi’s feet but the jounin jumped out of its reach before it had a chance to make contact, but no sooner had his feet touched the ground in his new location did two more burst and succeeded in wrapping around his ankles and _pulling,_ sinking the jounin up to mid-calve right as Sakura burst from the ground in her entirety, swiping at the back of Kakashi’s thighs with a blue-glowing hand, then snagging the bells and throwing them at Naruto’s feet.

 

Kakashi hobbled, trying to catch his balance, before ultimately falling into a seated position on the ground.

 

Sakura stood over the jounin, unscathed and triumphant.

 

Then, she too melted into mud.

 

“What the he-!”

 

“Well, that was disappointing.” The real Sakura hopped down from one of the trees not far at all from the place she had stood while she watched Naruto’s attempt to get the bells. She set about freeing Kakashi’s ankles from her jutsu while absently asking, “So, did that pass your test?”

 

Kakashi looked… well. Naruto was very lost, very confused, and more than a little scared. Kakashi... Kakashi just looked blank.

 

Three years ago, none of them, probably not even Sasuke, thought that they could go against Kakashi-sensei and come out on top. Now… now _Sakura-chan_ had just beaten him, and he still _didn’t understand how._

Before Kakashi could answer Sakura’s question, Naruto managed to choke out, “what- how? What did you- huh?”

 

Sakura’s eyebrow rose in the way that told him she was rather unimpressed by his ineloquence, but she still answered, her tone not changing from that unflappable drone that was so similar to Kakashi’s but lacked all the humour.

 

“I was inspired by you, actually, with how you always used to spam your Shadow Clones everywhere. See, because of the fact that you approached this spar without even the slightest intention to work _with_ me rather than make me _adapt_ to what you were doing, and that you were so absorbed in your fight with Kakashi, neither of you noticed when I went underground for the first time. I masked my chakra, created two dozen or so earth clones, scattered them around the field and voila. Then I went back to the treeline and watched.”

 

“You mean… sensei was never fighting the _real_ you?” Naruto asked incredulously, his eyes undoubtedly wide as saucers. One corner of Sakura’s lips twitched upwards, then she lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug so painfully reminiscent of Shikamaru that something in Naruto _ached._

“Well… no?” she replied, passing a green-glowing hand around each of Kakashi’s thighs and offering him a hand up without looking at him. “Neither of you were taking this seriously so I didn’t either. It was quite fun, to be honest, I can see why you did it like this.”

 

While Naruto tried to wrap his head around Sakura seeing him throw his arsenal at Kakashi and calling it ‘not trying seriously’, his sensei asked another question that had been bugging the blond. “How did you know where I would move to? You knew my exact location twice, that’s more than just guessing.”

 

At that, Sakura’s grin turned sharp. “Check the sole of your shoe.”

 

When Kakashi did, his hand came away with a paper tag.

 

 _A seal._ Naruto realised, having seen Jiraiya mess around and fight with seal tags over the three years he spent with the man.

 

“Gen and I were bored a couple of weeks ago and came up with a tracker seal. Haven’t had the chance to test it before today but I’d say it did its job.” She explained easily, and while Naruto puzzled over who ‘Gen’ was, Kakashi looked physically pained. “Now, as touching as this was, do you need me for anything else?”

 

Naruto blinked. “Wha-! Sakura-chan! What do you mean?! We got the bells, so Team Seven is back together, that deserves a celebratory meal or something at least, right? I call Ichiraku’s!”

 

He was surprised when Sakura lost some of that Nara blandness and instead seemed… almost _sad._ “Naruto…” she sighed, shaking her head resignedly. “While I am glad to see you and happy that you’re back in the Village… there is no ‘Team Seven’. Not anymore.” When Sakura saw that he was about to argue, she cut him off, “Team Seven was placed on hold as an active cell with my promotion to chunin. Then, when half the team left the Village indefinitely and the remaining two members went their separate ways, it was officially dissolved. That was a good year and a bit ago.”

 

“Wha… what do you mean ‘dissolved’?! You can’t dissolve our team! We’re-!”

 

This time, Sakura seemed to grow angry, “What? We’re _what_? A team? No we aren’t, and we never really were. A _family_? Please. Naruto, think about it: Kakashi is an A-Rank jounin of Konohagakure, one that can’t really be spared to take a scattering of C or maybe some B-Ranks until you get your chunin promotion because Konoha needs him to take the A and S-Ranks to keep the steady stream of income and uphold our reputation as the strongest Hidden Village. _I’m_ a jounin too. I have a partner and a speciality and going along with this farce of a team reunion will set me back a good year and a half progress-wise. And that’s not even counting my ambassadorial duties or responsibilities at T&I. I’m sorry, Naruto, but Team Seven from our genin days is over.”

 

While Naruto tried to absorb that and Kakashi watched quietly, the rosette took one step back, two, three, then disappeared. Just, there one second, then gone the next, not even a flurry of leaves or a disturbance in the grass she stood on to signify she was even there in the first place.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Sakura was out of the Village more often than she was _in,_ taking missions with Genma and the Twins and on occasion even Aoba and Raido. She was eternally grateful to Tsunade as the woman seemed to have realised that there was now a wedge between her and the jinchuuriki and was doing her best to keep Sakura out of the Village.

 

It was when she and Genma were coming back from a two week-long string of assassinations around Grass and Rain that they were stopped as they passed the border patrol on the edges of the Land of Fire.

 

“Jounin Haruno and Shiranui?” at their twin nods, the border guard handed them a scroll. “New orders.”

 

When Genma unrolled it and read it out, Sakura would forever deny the curse that tumbled out of her mouth.

 

_‘Akatsuki got the Kazekage. Kankurou’s down with poison. I sent Shizune with Hatake and Uzumaki but they’re going to need reinforcements – Sasori of the Red Sands was confirmed to have been one of the attackers. Try to intercept the retrieval team and provide support if needed. Retreat if necessary.’_

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit fucking _damn it._ ” Sakura hissed under her breath, but it was enough for Genma to send her a sharp look. “Don’t you understand? If they got Gaara, this means that there are only three, maybe four bijuu left.”

 

Genma frowned. “Explain.”

 

Sakura raked a hand through her hair and pulled Genma along in a quick shunshin, away from the border patrol, then slapped a privacy seal on the ground between them as she sat down. “Word in Intelligence has it that the Akatsuki are hunting jinchuuriki. Nobody knows why or _how_ they’re managing to subdue the hosts, but if intel is to be believed, then both the Two-Tails and Three-Tails have been lost, with the Two-Tails recently as well. Iwa lost their Five-Tails about two odd years ago but have been trying to keep it hush-hush – if rumour is to be believed, they didn’t even send a retrieval squad after the host. Then Kiri’s Bingo-Book stopped including their rogue Six-Tails which sparked the suspicion that he’s been captured too, and recently there’s been talk that Taki’s Seven-Tails has been captured as well. That makes five out of nine bijuu currently in Akatsuki’s possession, and if you add the One-Tail from Gaara to it, then they have six. I don’t even want to _imagine_ the destructive power if they somehow found a way to harness the power of six bijuu at once.”

 

When she finished, Genma was staring at her with an unreadable expression. “…I don’t even want to know how you know that. Honestly, kid, _what the everloving fuck_?!”

 

Sakura snorted, but after realising that her partner was genuinely distraught, she sobered up. “The Intelligence Division and T&I share an archive, Genma. It’s a good twenty feet under the most secure of cells, so nobody who _shouldn’t_ be there even _knows_ about it. I’ve got Level IV clearance for T&I files, but nobody really pays attention to what you look at or check out.” At Genma’s narrow-eyed glare, she fidgeted. “I… may have taken advantage of that? A… couple of times? Don’t give me that look, you kept saying ‘Sandaime gag order’ when I started asking whether the Yondaime and Uzumaki Kushina-hime where Naruto’s parents – which I don’t know why you still uphold, by the way, the man is no longer Hokage – so I went around it. You can’t fault me for being resourceful.”

 

The rosette didn’t think she’d ever seen the brunet so floored. “Kid, do you realise how many laws you broke? That’s… that’s not done _for a reason._ I couldn’t tell you _for a reason._ I’m all for using most rules as _guidelines_ but do you realise how much danger you put yourself in? If anyone hears you talking about this, you could be tried and stripped of your rank. Your teammate’s parentage was an open secret to most of the older generations, fair enough, but there was still a kage-induced gag-order that doesn’t expire with the kage’s death.”

 

Sakura gave herself a moment to be touched and appreciative of the fact that the only reason Genma was mad was because he was _worried about her…_ then she smacked him upside the head.

 

“And do _you_ realise that it was all technically above-board? I have the clearance to be in those archives, and if anyone has an issue with me looking at Intelligence’s documents, than that’s a security issue and not my fault. But even if I didn’t, think about it: I’m the youngest jounin of my generation, the youngest T&I Senior Interrogator in a _decade,_ an Ambassador to Mist and Suna and one of the Copy-Nin’s old genin students as well as an all-round acknowledged _nerd._ Nobody will bat an eye at the bijuu thing – it’s my job as an Ambassador to know about Kiri and Suna’s, and an interrogator’s job is literally to dig through people’s minds and pull out their secrets. Sure, it’s kind of a taboo topic in Konoha, but that’s only because of the fact that our Village was on the receiving end of a Tailed Beast’s rage; but other Villages? The identity of Kumo’s jinchuuriki is well known there, so it’s elsewhere. And me knowing Naruto’s parentage can _literally_ be explained away by the fact that you have variations of pictures of the Yondaime, his wife and you, Raido and Iwashi on almost every shelf in the house, Gen. Besides, I’d only need to explain anything if I slipped up and someone other than you found out what I know. Which I _haven’t,_ so there.”

 

(no, she did not stick her tongue out at the end of that, _shut up, Genma._ )

 

Genma blinked a few times as he digested that, then, to Sakura’s surprise, started _laughing._

“There’s never a dull day with you around, is there, kid?” he laughed and pulled on her ponytail, ignoring her baffled start. “Alright, I’ll trust you, as long as you promise not to bite off more than you can chew.” At Sakura’s slow, hesitant nod, he smiled and let go of her hair. “Now come on, we’ve got a Kazekage to save.” And he was off, leaving Sakura to stare after him for a few seconds, before her brain kicked in and she took off with a snort and a head shake.

 

_Men._

 


	22. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so! i realise it's been over two months, but university is a serious free-time destroyer. i'd genuinely say toddlers take up less time than full-time education, it's ridiculous xD  
> but here we are at last, a proper shippuden timeline, shit's going to hit the fan and all that!  
> hope you had a lovely christmas those of you who celebrated, and that the new year is treating you well!  
> thank you for your continued support of this work of mine!! love you all!

Somehow, Sakura and Genma managed to intercept the retrieval squad right after they’d gotten out of a confrontation with a doppelgänger of Uchiha Itachi. Kakashi looked resigned, Chiyo eyed Genma suspiciously but smirked at Sakura, while Naruto was baffled.

“Sakura-chan?” he asked, blinking rapidly. “What are you doing here? Did baa-chan send you?”

Sakura winced, having forgotten Naruto’s annoying lack of respect for higher authority, but tried to smooth out her expression before she replied. “We had a mission around Grass and Rain, then got supplementary orders when we got to the border. Officially, we’re here as your back-up.” She said, trying to keep her frustration at bay when Naruto looked ready to argue something, then was surprisingly saved by Kakashi of all people.

“And unofficially?” he asked, tone sharper than Sakura reasoned it had any reason to be and she knew that it didn’t escape neither Chiyo nor Genma’s notice. Deciding that she wasn’t paranoid, she smiled placidly and metaphorically dug her heels, all the while maintaining eye contact with Kakashi until Genma noticed and picked up where she left off.

“I believe that is up to the team leader’s discretion.” He intoned, perfectly civil though with a slight iciness in his gaze that made Sakura want to hug him.

Something unreadable passed through Kakashi’s visible eye, then he gave a curt nod and ran.

* * *

When they approached the sealed entrance to the cave, Sakura swayed from the sheer magnitude of chakra that she could sense from within the cave, then squinted at the fuinjutsu on the rock as means of distraction.

“MY YOUTHFUL RIVAL!”

(The string of expletives that left her mouth and the handful of kunai she sent flying in the direction of the noise were largely ignored, apart from Genma who met her eye and started shaking with suppressed laughter. Sakura made a point to step closer to him and stamp on his foot. Hard.)

They both elected to ignore Kakashi filling Gai and his team in, and opted to focus on the writing on the wall.

“Simultaneous trigger-release seal?” Sakura hazarded, frowning. “With… three triggers?”

“Four.” Genma corrected. “It’s a strong self-sustaining seal which means the triggers draw power from the main matrix. The outer pattern also uses cardinal directions so I’d hazard that each trigger is located north, south, east and west from here respectively, and no further than a mile out.”

“That’s a good starting point. But removing the triggers will only disable whatever trap is keyed in the boulder but won’t actually address the issue of the massive boulder blocking the way. Any ideas on that?”

At that, Genma grinned. “Well, it’s a good thing we’ve got a little pyro on our hands, hm, kid?”

Sakura blinked a few times, trying to make sure she heard right, then smirked. “You want me to blow up the rock.”

“I want you to blow up the rock.” A moment passed between them, a flash of mutual understanding and amusement, before Genma turned back to the rest with a loud clap of his hands, “Alright here’s what’s going to happen-!”

And while he was doing that, Sakura was trying to dodge Chiyo’s knowing, Machiavellian smirk and Kakashi’s silent, blank gaze that she could feel on her face, telling her he’d overheard her and Genma’s discussion. Sakura sighed and dropped to kneel on the ground, pulling out her tags and brush and set to work, channelling all her fear, her frustration at the situation, her worry for Gaara and Kankuro and Temari’s mental state, her confusion at what it is the Akatsuki really wanted until she blinked. Paused. Focused on the tag. Then cursed.

She may have overdone the destructive power in the seal.

Sakura considered the matrix again then shrugged. Oh well.

When she deemed the seal done and looked up, Genma met her eyes, while Sakura did a slight double-take at the fact that Team Gai was no longer there.

“I sent them off to locate the triggers.” Genma explained, easily catching on to the source of her confusion. “You about done with that?”

Sakura nodded and offered the tag up for inspection, then met Chiyo’s amused gaze. “You got any other hidden talents girlie?”

The pinkette shrugged, “I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?” she offered guilelessly. Chiyo blinked, considered her incredulously for a second, then threw her head back and _cackled._ Sakura allowed herself a small smirk, then rose and stuck the seal on the boulder.

“Okay. Kakashi, can I talk to you?” she asked when she was done, shooting Genma a meaningful look.

It was clear her old sensei wasn’t expecting her to address him, but something in her expression must’ve convinced him that this was not the time to argue. Once he obliged and ambled over, Sakura dropped a muffling seal on the ground between them and pinned him in place with a look.

“In the spirit of cooperation and all that – we’re most likely going to find the bomber and Sasori in that cave. The bomber has airborne clay creations and is likely to try and split us up, while the puppetmaster prefers stationary fighting. Chiyo-sama will want to face her grandson. You and Naruto should stay with her. No, just listen!” she cut him off before he could interrupt her, “I’m more used to working with Gen than you are with Naruto so it would be better if you have her beside you against Sasori. Besides, Gen and I are part of the Twenty Platoons. We’ve trained for this. You know just as well as I do that Naruto will react emotionally the moment he sees Gaara. Keeping him here, close to Team Gai and a closed structure is better than letting him run off in pursuit.” When Kakashi looked unconvinced, she pushed, ignoring Naruto’s indignant call. “You _know_ I’m right, Kakashi.”

“Can you keep up with the bomber?” he asked at last, and Sakura had to try very hard not to smirk victoriously.

“I can and I will.” She assured him, and cancelled the chakra flow to the silencing tag. “Okay, let’s blow it!”

* * *

She was right. Though the sight of Gaara’s lifeless body was jarring and definitely something she’d need to see Inoichi about, compartmentalising was something she’d had three years’ practice in.

Naruto… didn’t.

Only Kakashi’s firm grip on the back of the blond’s jacket stopped him from running straight at the two Akatsuki members, and Sakura could feel his chakra growing, turning more volatile, trying to escape. She was almost glad when the bomber mounted his clay creation and flew out of the cave, Gaara’s body clutched between the bird’s talons. She could hear Naruto’s vicious scream and cussing even as she and Genma ran out of the cave and after the bomber, but she resolved to feel guilty about this manipulation _later._

_Gaara was precious to her too._

She knew her and Genma worked well together. But it still took her by surprise every time he managed to seemingly read her mind without any effort.

They tested the agility of the bird, bombarding it with kunai and shuriken, making it swerve and dodge and twist and turn in mid-air all the while trying to dodge the explosions the blonde kept dropping on them. Sakura realised after a particularly large loop-de-loop that Deidara must’ve been sticking to the clay with chakra because he didn’t lose his footing or stumble once since they’ve began their chase.

She layered five illusions on top of each other and was afforded only a split-second of satisfaction before she felt them break.

“I’ve made the Sharingan obsolete, your little tricks won’t work!” the bomber called smugly, and Sakura had a few seconds of being alarmed before she smiled. She loved boasting opponents. They made it so easy for her to find a way to beat them.

_Fine._

The Sharingan dealt in illusions that affected the optical nerve. All she needed was a technique that attacked the other senses.

Catching Genma’s eye, she flashed through the seal-code the two of them had worked out and waited for his nod. Sakura took a deep breath, held it in for a count, then _moved._

The Vertigo genjutsu came easily to her, hardly taking any chakra at all, and the effect was instantaneous. Deidara swayed, his bird swooped while he fell to his knees. Sakura sent out chakra strings while Genma flashed ahead, her threads attaching themselves to the bird’s talons and prying them apart. Gaara’s body fell free, and Sakura quickened her step and sent a clone to catch him while she focused back on a newly aware and _angry_ bomber.

But Genma hadn’t been idle. With Gaara free and the few seconds her genjutsu had worked, he’d planted the seals for the modified version of the Four Violet Flames Formation, and Sakura watched, awed, as a barrier of pure purple flames surrounded Deidara, trapping him within its confines, caging him in.

Sighing, Sakura sagged with relief and finally took a moment to assess the damage they took. Both her and Genma were singed in multiple places where they hadn’t quite managed to evade the explosives, but were luckily otherwise unharmed. It was clear Deidara had been expecting Naruto to follow him and counted on the jinchuuriki acting out brashly or in anger, judging on what he’d said in the cave. Sakura found it even harder to feel guilty for pressuring Kakashi to keep Naruto back.

Genma turned to her and Sakura smiled reassuringly when she realised he too was doing injury assessment. Then, she got to her feet and regarded Deidara, who kept sending his explosives at the barrier, only for them to burst into flames before he could detonate. He was visibly growing angrier by the second, but Sakura didn’t know how he could ever hope to get out. Unless-

“Did you extend the barrier walls underground too?” she asked sharply, eyeing Deidara who had stopped spamming the barrier with explosives and seemed deep in thought.

Genma nodded. “Twenty metres. He can’t hope to walk under it. But it’s eating at my chakra like a _bitch_.”

Sakura paled. “You tethered it to your _own_ chakra?! Genma!”

“It was the earlier draft, I didn’t notice until I triggered it!” he explained, looking far too weary for Sakura’s tastes. The barrier used during the Chunin Exams required four shinobi to sustain it. Genma was currently the only source keeping it up. Sakura didn’t want to think about how much longer he could realistically sustain it.

It wouldn’t be long.

“Okay…” she said, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration. “Okay, I can work with this. Chuck me your brush.” She caught the item out of the air and pretended not to notice how Genma slumped against a nearby tree, visibly struggling with the chakra drain. Instead, she walked close enough to the barrier to touch it, coated the brush with ink then her chakra, closed her eyes and concentrated.

It was much like she used to concentrate in order to heal – find the other person’s chakra, get a feel for its rhythm, its rise and fall, its speed through their coils, and try to match the wavelength of her own energy to theirs. Genma’s chakra was as familiar to her as anything else about the man, a familiarity earned by years of living together, healing each other, fighting together, so it was not long until her chakra was in perfect sync with his, and she laid the brush in her hand against the wall of the barrier, felt it fight the contact, then accept her chakra as an extension of the one running through it. Keeping her eyes closed, Sakura began to draw.

First, she swapped ‘personal energy’ for ’natural’, limited the draw on natural energy to a mile radius from the centre of the barrier, then focused on extending the walls further underground and closing it like a box, not trusting the bomber trapped within it to remain as complacent as he had appeared. Only when she could feel the barrier conform to the instructions she was carefully detailing in chakra and ink and sheer willpower alone did she close the circuit and finish the seal with a flourish, stepping away and opening her eyes.

“-kura! Sakura, get away from that barrier!” she tuned in to Genma’s words just as her eyes focused on Deidara, noticed that he was no longer humanoid in appearance – his body had become translucent while she hadn’t been looking, his veins turning black, the place where his heart should’ve been was now a macabre smiling sphere and growing.

“Sakura!”

Flash-stepping to Genma’s side, she noticed that some colour had returned to his cheeks, but he was still visibly weakened from the drain.

“Please tell me you planted a hiraishin about a mile away?” she asked rhetorically, already gripping onto his arm and never taking her eyes off of what was becoming of Deidara.

“Of course; hold on-!” and the familiar tug of the hiraishin pulled them into the nowhere dimension of Space-Time just as there was an explosion of pure, blinding white light, making her eyes sting even from behind closed eyelids.

When she could once-again feel the ground under her feet, Sakura opened her eyes.

“Do you just spam those seals anywhere?” she couldn’t help laughing, noticing that, by her estimation, Genma had literally deposited them a little over a mile away from the bomber.

“Precaution.” The brunet sniped back, then added thoughtfully, “Though I didn’t think I’d actually have to use them. Care to explain why specifically a mile?”

Sakura shrugged. “Precaution.” She parroted, then sighed when Genma pinned her with a _Look._ “I made the radius for the natural chakra draw a mile. I didn’t know what Deidara was going to do. I trust your seal and I have faith in the modifications I added, but… I didn’t want to chance our lives on potentially misplaced confidence.”

Genma seemed to assess her for a few seconds, then smiled. “I’m glad. Reckon we should head back now?”

Nodding, Sakura fell into step with the jounin, and they set off.

At first, nothing seemed amiss.

Then-

“…holy shit.”

As they crossed to where Sakura calculated was just within the mile-radius, the scenery changed to something out of a nightmare. The forest which just a few metres back had been full and green and brimming with life was full of dead trees, the branches gnarled and weak. The grass under their feet was yellowed and brittle, crunching under their boots even with chakra softening their steps, and every few metres, there was a carcass of an animal unfortunate enough to have been in the vicinity; squirrel, rabbit, deer…

“Sakura, what did you _do_?” Genma murmured, wonder and horror alike evident in his voice, and the rosette frowned. What _did_ she do?

Upon nearing the barrier, it became evident what had happened. The previously almost solid purple walls were thin and flickering, as if the chakra source they were sustained on was faltering, running out. As deep as the barrier went into the ground, there _was no ground._ As Sakura peered into the barrier, she realised there was a perfectly rectangular ditch in the ground, at least forty metres deep, and at the bottom was the barrier.

Deidara was nowhere to be seen.

“This… Deidara must’ve blown himself up.” Genma murmured, and Sakura nodded slowly.

“Yeah… and the destruction was the barrier trying to contain the explosion. I don’t even want to think how devastating it could’ve been. This is bad. A two-mile diameter of dead forest, versus… God even knows.”

“Hey! Hey, kid!” Genma grasped her by the shoulders and shook her gently until she realised that she had begun to hyperventilate. “Breathe, okay? You did good. This is the lesser of two evils, alright? Yeah, you’re gonna be blacklisted by some forest critters, but that barrier probably saved Hidden Valleys, Hatake, the Suna grinch and your teammate. Stop worrying!”

Sakura loved Genma.

She loved how he could always spot when something was _not quite right_ and talk her down. But in this case, there was more to the issue, but getting to the bottom of _why_ totalling and literally draining the life force of a section of forest the size of a small village was the thing that triggered her moral compass, when _murder_ didn’t – that would be Inoichi’s job. So Sakura pushed it to the back of her mind and forced a smile on her face when she looked at Genma.

“Thanks, Gen. Let’s see if the others are done?”

They made their way back, the tags that once made up the barrier stashed safely in Sakura’s pocket. Sakura had her clone join up with them, Gaara’s body in its arms which Genma took in his and the rosette dispelled the clone.

When they arrived back at the cave, Kakashi, Naruto and Chiyo were all still alive, and almost undamaged.

“How’d it go?” Genma asked quietly, laying Gaara down before Naruto had a chance to notice.

“Akasuna no Sasori is dead.” Kakashi stated blankly, then his eyes flickered to Sakura. “He… gave some intel regarding Sasuke’s location, right before he died. A member of his spy network is apparently Orochimaru’s right-hand man.” He sighed, rubbed at his eye, and jumped when Sakura’s hand lit up green, even though she made sure not to touch him.

“I can’t do anything about the direct cause, but I can ease the tension-headache the strain caused.” She murmured, still keeping her hand away, waiting for Kakashi’s nod. When it came, along with a quiet ‘thanks’, she let her hand rest on his forehead and tried to soothe the headache that her old sensei had developed.

“What about Deidara?” he asked, and Sakura and Genma shrugged simultaneously.

“Dead.” Genma provided, while Sakura added, “Blew himself up.”

“Casualties?”

“Mm, about one-mile radius of dead forest.” Genma replied, a lopsided grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Kakashi looked between the two of them, eyebrow raised, then sighed, fatigue writ clearly in his posture and the shadows under his eye. “I changed my mind, I don’t want to know.”

Sakura laughed, leaning on Genma as the events of the last few hours caught up to her. Then, she turned in to what the others were doing, how Naruto was crying over Gaara and Chiyo was standing beside them, impassive. Their eyes met, and Sakura saw something flash through the Elder’s eyes and firm. Something like resolve.

* * *

Sakura would’ve never expected the testy Elder to do what she did. She reckoned Shikamaru was going to have a stroke when he found out.

With all the Suna shinobi who had gathered while Chiyo was reanimating Gaara, plus Team 9 and the remains of the mish-mash team Kakashi had assembled, Sakura found it easy to fade into the background. She didn’t want to hear Naruto’s clueless insensitivity, nor wonder _how_ the boy could’ve thought that medical jutsu would ever be enough to bring someone back from the dead. She left that to the newly-healed Kankuro to explain.

Disappearing into the crowd was easy even without her Chameleon jutsu, and she moved to the edge of the group, leant against a tree trunk and set to doing inventory of her weapons pouch. The mindless, routine task of counting, cleaning and sharpening gave her time to let her mind wander to the events of the day.

There were two less Akatsuki memebers to deal with. She had helped bring down one of them. Her and Genma had played god, using natural energy to their own ends. Gaara had died. Chiyo sacrificed herself to bring Gaara back. And yet _Naruto_ got all the credit.

Sakura startled, surprised at the bitterness that had laced that thought. She wasn’t jealous of Naruto so why-?

_Chiyo deserved better._

She didn’t have a chance to ponder on that any more as a hand suddenly appeared in her periphery and she looked up and straight into the curious, fond eyes of the Kazekage.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” He intoned, his voice soft, just as quiet as Sakura remembered but not as flat. Teasing, even. She noticed Naruto standing a few metres back, trying to look like he was engaged in conversation with a Suna-nin but very obviously trying to eavesdrop, but she paid him no heed.

Sakura let a small smile show and took Gaara’s hand, letting him pull her to her feet. “Not at all. I’m glad to see you’re well, Gaara-sama.”

Gaara shook his head. “Just Gaara, Sakura, we’re not in my office. And I’ve been told you took down the bomber, something I couldn’t do. You’ve more than earned it.”

Sakura snorted, touched but amused. “I didn’t have a whole Village to protect.” Then, noticing that the redhead still looked a bit shaky and even paler than usual, she rested a hand on his arm gently, frowning. “How are you feeling? Have you got any questions about what happened?”

Gaara closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath that shuddered slightly on the exhale. Clearly he wasn’t as alright as he was trying to act. “It’s…jarring. Everyone is so…kind. So concerned. I’m… not used to that. And I don’t know- I don’t know what changed.” When he opened his eyes, Sakura felt her heart break a little. There was none of the confident, powerful shinobi, Kazekage at fifteen, able to command the power of entire deserts before her. Just a lost, confused boy, trying to find his place, and Sakura felt the last of her bitterness leave her.

She ran her hand down from his arm to his hand and clasped it in her own, squeezing gently. “You saved their lives, Gaara. You saved the lives of thousands, at the loss of your own. You proved that your power is not the monster within you. You honoured Chiyo. You’ve been doing everything in your power and _more_ to prove yourself to your Village for over a year – losing you was what made the last of them finally realise it. So you better _get used_ to it, and soon, or I’ll have Temari smack you around, kage or no.”

The corner of Gaara’s lip curled up and his eyes glittered, which on anybody else Sakura reckoned would’ve been full-blown laughter. “Thank you, Sakura.” Then, in a move that had Sakura gaping like a fish and convinced she had hit her head somewhere, he stepped forward and lightly hugged her. The action was made all the more awkward by the fact that he didn’t let go of her hand and was also very clearly new to the idea of ‘hugging’. Still, Sakura hugged him back as best as she could and tried not to jump too obviously when Gaara kept talking, “And do write my sister more. It’s amusing seeing her get riled up when she reads your letters.” Then he pulled away, and Sakura noticed out of the corner of her eye how multiple heads quickly turned away from the two of them and sighed inwardly.

Still, she smiled for Gaara and squeezed his hand before letting go. “Thank _you._ And I will, it’s always fun writing them.” She met his eyes and let her smile get a little smaller, more genuine even as she defaulted to their standard formalities. “I’m glad you’re alright, Kazekage-sama. Remember, hearts and minds.”

She saw the exact moment what she was saying clicked in Gaara’s mind, and delighted in the fond, grateful nod she got in response. “Hearts and minds, Sakura-san. Take care.”

* * *

“Hey, hey, Sakura-chan!” Naruto piped up, falling into step with her as the Konoha contingent was finally heading home. “I didn’t know you were close with Gaara!”

Sakura heard a snort from the back of their group but didn’t bother turning to see who it was, even as in front of her she could see Genma’s back shaking with laughter.

She sighed and kept facing forward even as she answered. “Shikamaru and I are the Ambassadors to Suna, so we’ve been there a few times since we set-up the treaty. And I’m good friends with Temari, so I suppose that helps.”

“But he _hugged you._ ” Naruto exclaimed, as if Sakura didn’t realise the significance of that particular action. “Gaara doesn’t hug people!”

Sakura fought the instinctive desire to snap and instead said, “I think you’ll find that Gaara does what Gaara wants, Naruto. And he’s grown a lot even over the year I’ve known him.”

Her old teammate blinked, then seemed to consider something. “He mentioned that, once. You and Shikamaru helping set up the treaty. I guess I didn’t realise…” but he trailed off, and Sakura wasn’t all that bothered to get him to finish the thought, and was perfectly happy to lapse into silence. Her earlier surge of bitterness towards the blond had left her self-conscious and oddly off-kilter, and she needed Inoichi to help sift through the mess of emotions the last few days had brought.

Then, Naruto spoke again. “Hey, Sakura-chan? Do you want to get dinner when we’re back in the Village? I haven’t had Ichiraku’s in ages and it could be like a da-”

“Naruto,” Sakura sighed, cutting him off. “I’m not… interested in you that way. But I would be happy to get dinner with you,” she added, to soften the sting of the rejection, “catch up, get to know you again. It could be…” she trailed off, struggling to find the right word – it could be _what, exactly? Reassuring me I hadn’t lost my mind?_ “nice.” She finished lamely.

Naruto blinked, a bit thrown, clearly disappointed, but then smiled brightly. “Sure, Sakura-chan! It’s a-! well, not a date, but y’know, ah… it’ll be fun!”

Sakura managed a small, tired smile and a nod, trying not to wince at the tension headache that was blooming in her temples. It was looking like a long journey.

* * *

Her headache only worsened once they actually appeared before Tsunade and were tasked with delivering the oral report. Kakashi went first, seeing as Gaara’s retrieval had been his main mission. Sakura was happy to deliver the report on her and Genma’s original mission, the string of assassinations in Grass and Rain, but left explaining anything that happened after they joined up with Kakashi to Genma. She watched those around her instead and catalogued the reactions to Genma’s explanation – Naruto’s was confused, Kakashi’s slightly disbelieving, while Tsunade looked satisfied but oddly… disturbed? Sakura couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

It was only when Tsunade asked her whether she had anything to add that Sakura spoke again. “…Permission to tell Shikamaru about Elder Chiyo?” she asked at last, knowing that, despite all his complaining, the Nara genuinely respected the woman.

What she wasn’t expecting was for Tsunade to pause, and for her face to take a concerned, almost pitying expression. “Ah… Asuma’s platoon came across the immortal duo from Akatsuki. Asuma… didn’t make it back.” Sakura felt more than saw Kakashi and Genma freeze, their chakra roiling in a mess of confusion, disbelief, grief and anger. “Shikamaru has been missing since he got back to the Village. Neither the genin nor the chunin can find him. Shikaku is in Frost and Yoshino is out on a courier run; could you look for him, Haruno?”

But Sakura was already gone, not a leaf nor a cloud of smoke to show that she was ever even there.

* * *

When Sakura found Shikamaru, he was in the forest atop the Hokage Mountain, behind the kages’ heads, his back against a tree and his head between his knees while his hand rhythmically tore up grass by the fistful.

Sakura had never dealt with this Shikamaru, but somehow, she wasn’t worried. She strolled over to the teen, settled down beside him, and waited.

Half, maybe even a full hour passed before any words were spoken between them.

“I’m going to find him. I will find a way to kill him. And I will _enjoy it._ ” Shikamaru rasped, raising his head from between his knees and turning his face up towards the sky, his cheeks surprisingly tear-free, but his eyes were bloodshot and his mouth turned down in pain.

Nothing, Sakura reasoned, could have been more damning in determining how Shikamaru was feeling, than hearing him talk about murder with relish.

“I know you will. And I will do anything you need me to in order to help you achieve that.” Sakura offered, putting as much strength and conviction behind her voice as she dared.

There was another moment of silence as Shikamaru finally turned to look at her, and Sakura’s heart broke when their eyes met, but she made sure that her quiet confidence and carefully-controlled fury on the Nara’s behalf was evident in her expression.

And then, as if that was all that he needed, Shikamaru’s eyes filled with tears.

But that was the moment Sakura had been waiting for; she wrapped an arm around Shikamaru’s shoulders, shuffled over so her back was pressed against the tree-trunk too, and pulled his head to rest in the crook of her neck, rubbing his back as he shook with the force of his sobs.

While Shikamaru cried, Sakura felt her anger grow – anger at Tsunade, for sending out measly four-man squads against _monsters,_ anger at the Akatsuki, anger at Asuma for going on the mission _knowing_ the danger, knowing what he was leaving behind, what he was risking, and anger at their world, the Shinobi Nations, the pretend-hierarchy meant to camouflage a military dictatorship and the fact that they were but pawns in an endless game of chess.

She would burn it all, raze it all to the ground, if it meant not having to see her precious people suffer like this.

“He k-killed Asuma. _Asuma._ Why… Why couldn’t it have been anyone else? Why Asuma?” Sakura felt the exact moment Shikamaru started hyperventilating, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, breaking the rosette’s heart further with every shaky inhale. She soothed and coached him through the exercises Genma and Inoichi had taught her, then, when Shikamaru pulled away to wipe at his face once he could breathe again, Sakura laid a gentle hand on the back of his neck, met his eyes, and kissed him.

There was no heat behind the kiss, no passion, no lust nor expectation; just comfort in human intimacy and reassurance in the rhythmic meeting and parting of their lips. For Sakura, there were none of the fireworks she’d read about exploding behind her eyelids, no discernible shift in her world; it was just…natural. When they separated to breathe, Shikamaru seemed steadier, more grounded as his gaze met hers. Then, he craned his neck and brought their lips together again, cutting off Sakura’s soft chuckle. The second time, Sakura tried to concentrate on what the teen novels had always focused on: Shikamaru’s lips were soft but dry, salty from his tears, but most importantly, they were gentle. _He_ was gentle.

Sakura had never much cared for the idea that her first kiss should be special, memorable, with the _right person,_ but she was glad that, maybe apart from the circumstances, she was glad that her first kiss was with someone she trusted as explicitly as _Shikamaru_.

But this was not about her.

This was about comfort, about helping her friend, her partner, deal with his grief, about grounding him. Everything else, all Sakura’s teenage woes and questionable hormones were secondary, a background noise that was nevertheless not enough to distract her from her goal.

As they separated for the second time, Shikamaru started laughing, quiet and breathless, and lightly thumped his head against Sakura’s shoulder. They stayed in silence for a few seconds, then Shikamaru sighed.

“I’m not going home today. Probably not going down to the Village for a while.” When Sakura hummed and scratched her nails through the hair at the nape of the Nara’s neck, he shivered and continued, voice not as sure as before. “Stay with me?”

Sakura huffed, thinking it over, though her fingers never stopped their petting and Shikamaru didn’t attempt to move his head. “I’ll need to tell Gen, take a few days off from T&I… actually, screw this, Genma’s tagged me, and if Ibiki or anyone in T&I wants to see me, they can find him. I’m staying. Have you got food? A tent?”

Shikamaru seemed a bit thrown, then shook his head and laughed. “Thanks… Wait, Genma tagged you? With his hiraishin seal?” he demanded, half-incredulous, half-amused, pulling away so she could see his face and the raised eyebrow that adorned it. Sakura could see the obvious change of topic, but she allowed it. She’d get Shikamaru to go through all the stages of grief counselling over the next few days – there was no real rush, so she smiled and focused on answering his question.

Sakura shrugged of her flak jacket and rolled up her left sleeve, where just below her ANBU tattoo lay Genma’s personal hiraishin seal. “He got scared after that time we were coming back from Suna. Smacked it on me as soon as he was sure it was safe.” She explained, corner of her mouth quirking up. “Paranoid bastard.”

“Pot, kettle.” Shikamaru coughed, though his eyes were sparkling with a hint of the mischief Sakura had gotten used to seeing in them. “Fancy setting up the tent while I scavenge for food?”

Sakura was more than happy to do just that, especially as the night was fast-approaching, but grumbled anyway, more for grumbling’s sake than anything, but she still heard the Nara snort. “Ah, yes, give the girl the difficult job, sure, eugh.”

Before he disappeared in search of where he must’ve dropped his mission pack, Shikamaru turned around and called back, “And, Sakura?” when the rosette looked up from the tent poles, he smiled, small but sincere and with a light blush dusting the bridge of his nose. “Thanks.”

..

True to her word, Sakura stayed with Shikamaru for a week, making him talk about Asuma, talk about his plans, talk about anything and everything that came to mind. They played games, napped, watched clouds, and sparred – Shikamaru was determined to combine Asuma’s chakra blades with the jutsu he’d been hashing out while they were in Suna all those months ago, and Sakura, as she had promised, was the willing guinea pig.

There were doubts lurking at the back of her mind, issues she was sure she was only making worse by not going to see Inoichi about, but she couldn’t leave Shikamaru, and clearly, the Village was doing just fine without the two of them since Genma hadn’t come after her yet.

And then, as if summoned, a week and two days after Sakura found Shikamaru, Genma appeared. He caught them when they were resting, enjoying the last of the afternoon sun – Shikamaru on his back, watching the clouds through the gaps in the trees, and Sakura on her side, arm and leg thrown over the Nara and her head cushioned on his chest, napping in the sun after hours of sparring. Her hair was grimy and she hadn’t showered since the mission and Shikamaru was no better, yet instead of repulsive, the mixed smell of sweat, sun, grass and something earthy on the brunet was nothing but comforting.  

“Kid,” Genma greeted, “or, kids, really. Tsunade wants you in her office in an hour. Go home. Shower. Eat something that’s not rations. Shikamaru, your parents are back, but if you want, some of your clothes are still at ours.”

Shikamaru sighed and Sakura knew what he was going to choose even before he spoke so she smiled and sat up, stretching. “Thanks, but I reckon I should see them. Dad might be worried and my mum’s probably already beside herself.” He sat up too, cracking his neck and smiling at Sakura’s automatic wince. “Thanks though.”

Sakura smiled and held her hand up for a high-five, beaming when Shikamaru met her hand with his.

They were going to be alright.

* * *

When Sakura and Shikamaru finally showed up at the Hokage’s office, she wasn’t expecting the small crowd that was already there. Kakashi, Naruto, Ino, Chouji, a man whose chakra she vaguely recognised but whose face she couldn’t remember, and –

Awaku-kun.

Sakura kept her face carefully blank and saw the boy do the same, despite the minute widening of his eyes and the way his hand dropped to his weapons pouch. She had a lot of questions to ask Tsunade after this.

“Right! You’re here because you all deserve to hear this. Akasuna no Sasori provided us with intel pertinent to Uchiha Sasuke’s location. Sakura, Naruto, you’ll be going to investigate, with Yamato as your leader and Sai as the third team member!”

Sakura felt Shikamaru tense beside her and she momentarily saw red. She was meant to be going with Shikamaru. She _promised him_ she would.

A hand snaked down to wrap around hers and Sakura glanced down and saw the Nara’s tanner hand holding hers, right before he squeezed lightly. When she looked up and met his eyes, Shikamaru offered her a wry smile and a shrug.

“Ino, Shikamaru, Chouji, you’ll be going after Hidan and Kakuzu of the Akatsuki, with Kakashi as your leader.” She assessed the three teens, and a surprisingly soft, sympathetic expression appeared on her face as she added, “Give them hell.”

Taking that as a dismissal, most of the group filtered out of the office, but Sakura hung back.

“Yes, Haruno? Got anything to say?” the Godaime asked, but Sakura knew she woman was aware of what she wanted to bring up.

“Are you aware that Sai-!” but Sakura cut herself off, her eyes drawn to Tsunade’s fingers which were moving almost imperceptibly against the table, hidden from view of where she knew the ANBU guard was stationed by her arm and not inconsiderable bosom.

_“operation in progress”, “don’t attack”, “smoking out”, “suspect”, “act natural”._

Sakura realised she hadn’t been down in T&I for too long if something of this magnitude passed her by.

“That Sai _what_ , Haruno?”

“That he might not fit in with me and Naruto.” Sakura bluffed, then brought up another point she wanted to argue so it wasn’t a complete lie. “And why are you sending out this particular group, Tsunade-sama? Team Seven was officially dissolved when I became jounin and I would be much more useful with Shikamaru’s team.”

“The blond brat seems to think that if the Uchiha sees what he left behind, he’ll be more willing to come back.” the blonde explained, and Sakura scoffed, her expression disbelieving.

“And do you believe that, Tsunade-sama?”

Tsunade sighed. “What I believe doesn’t matter. But I am willing to try Naruto’s way because we don’t have the necessary manpower in the Village to try it any other. And having one rogue Sharingan was bad enough, but now that there are two, the Council is pressing for action. Uchiha Sasuke has been upgraded to a B-Rank missing-nin after what he did to Mitarashi.” Sakura couldn’t help the scowl, couldn’t help opening her mouth to retort, but then Tsunade cut her off, “ _However,_ I am not so gullible as to believe that Naruto’s luck won’t run out at some point. Which is where you come in, Haruno. You will be going with them, and your job will be as the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Your other day-job, if you will.”

Sakura paused, narrowed her eyes and was about to ask what the woman meant, when it clicked. She tried very hard not to gape as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. “You… want me to assassinate Uchiha Sasuke?”

“No. I want you to drag him back to the Village using any means necessary. I know of the deal you made with Hiashi. You have my permission. But don’t kill him.”

Sakura couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice. “Why not?”

Suddenly, Tsunade’s mouth set in a firm, vicious line, her eyebrows drawing together as fury blazed in her eyes, and Sakura felt a shiver go down her spine at the sheer _power_ that radiated off the woman.

“Because the bastard needs to face trial, that’s why!”

Sakura was out the door and on the other side of the Village before the vase Tsunade threw even hit the wall.

Uchiha Sasuke wasn’t going to know what hit him.


	23. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what's this? me updating twice in one month? must be a miracle!  
> this chapter is a 'sorry but uni is starting in a week and i dont know when the next time that i'll be free to write' will be, so i thought it'd be better to get it out now.  
> a lot of important things happen in this chapter, and it's the most canon-divergent one i've produced thus far. 
> 
> also, a question - i hate danzo with every fiber of my being and i feel like that's quite a common view, but what are y'all's thoughts on orochimaru?  
> i've been spoilt by beautiful writers like blackkat or ShanaStoryteller or Vixen_Tail to the point that i can't unsee the potential for oro's redemption or characterization that would actually make sense (thanks, kishi) but i'm curious what the 'consensus', so to speak, is. 
> 
> anyway, as always, do tell me if there's anything odd or you'd like explained or whatever, and further clarification will come in the next chapter!
> 
> IMPORTANT!  
> tw for gore and bodily mutilation around half way through the chapter - if you're iffy, stop reading after "something in her mind broke" and pick up again at "finish the job, or cite accident?". shouldn't affect your understanding of what went on too much ^_^

The day they were meant to set off for Sound, Sakura got up before the sun had even risen over the horizon and made a beeline for the cemetery, dropping down beside two familiar headstones. As she knelt by her parents’ graves, the melancholy and grief that was usually at the forefront of her mind was pushed to the back by the satisfaction at finally being able to her revenge.

"It's been a while, hahaue, chichiue.” She greeted, bowing her head. “But I've been assigned to Sasuke's retrieval at last, so I can bring you some justice." Sakura paused and lightly ran the tips of her fingers over the various trinkets and souvenirs she'd left by their graves over the years as she tried to sort through the mess in her head. "I really should've seen Inoichi..." She sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "But Shikamaru needed me to stay and then we were summoned... I forgot how long it's been since I've seen him. I think I've been procrastinating dealing with some things, like Naruto's return, or Kakashi... Or even the fact that Anko is still in the coma. Now there's Chiyo too and that _goddamn forest_..." Even as she was speaking, Sakura felt her mind splintering, felt the steel boxes she'd forced those thoughts into start to rattle and threaten to burst open, a Pandora's box of issues she was ill-prepared to deal with. She hung her head and breathed deeply through her nose, only just noticing that her hands were clutching the grass by her knees in a white-knuckled grip. "Wish me strength, hahaue, chichiue. I'll need it. I’ll come by… after. After everything." Sakura arranged the flowers she’d grabbed along the way neatly between the graves and rose to her feet, heading home.

When she got in, Genma seemed to have only just gotten up, his hair a mess and pillow creases still evident on his cheek, and Sakura was hit with an overwhelming wave of fondness for the man. She crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around Genma’s waist, standing on her tiptoes to hook her chin over his shoulder.

She opened her mouth to somehow voice the fondness she felt, then her eyes zeroed in on what the brunet was drinking out of and she snorted. “Is that a coffee pot?” she asked incredulously, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

“A coffee pot can be a coffee mug if you just don’t care.” Genma replied sagely, then snorted and downed the rest of his drink and put it aside. One of his hands dropped to cover Sakura’s while the other tried to comb through his hair. “Everything alright?”

Sakura sighed and unhooked her chin, loosening her arms so Genma could turn around, then grabbed his sleeve and tugged him towards the sofa, pushing him on it once they were close enough. Genma went willingly, the corner of his mouth quirking up even as there was an edge of concern in his eyes, and Sakura couldn’t help her own grateful smile.

She flopped onto his lap, delighting in the startled ‘oof!’ and let her head drop onto Genma’s shoulder. “I got the Uchiha mission.” She announced at last, and felt Genma go momentarily still as he registered her words, then-

“Ah.” And in that single syllable, he managed to encapsulate everything Sakura had been worried about how to breach with him since she got her orders.

Laughing, she let herself relax slightly, picking at a loose thread in Genma’s shirt. “Yeah.” When nothing more was forthcoming, Genma laughed.

“You don’t know what to think, do you?”

And Sakura snorted, meeting his eyes so he could see the gratitude in them, and replied, “Not in the slightest.” When Genma asked her to walk him through her thought process, she sighed. “I’ve been after this mission for the last three years, but now… well, firstly, I’d much rather go with Shikamaru. Secondly… Naruto is going with me. And this time, we won’t have Kakashi to keep him in check.” At Genma’s confused hum, she elaborated. “Kakashi got assigned as Team 10’s back-up, which I’m grateful for, but… the jounin we got instead… I recognise his chakra, Gen, but I’ve never seen his face.”

“ANBU, then.” Genma summarised, confirming her suspicions.

“That’s what I thought too. But, more importantly – I got separate orders. I was explicitly told to bring Sasuke back so he can face trial. My team was just told to see whether he can be persuaded or convinced of the error of his ways. I… I’ll break him, Genma. He’s the apprentice of a monster I can’t ever hope to touch, if I have to overpower him, I’ll have to break him to the point he can’t fight back. And then Naruto will never forgive me.”

Genma hummed and lightly patted her thigh. “Don’t let him see then. Orochimaru will doubtless be there. Tell your jounin leader your mission if you must, get him to help you take Naruto away from your battle with the Uchiha.” When all Sakura could do was stare at him, he sighed and ruffled her hair. “And Sakura, even though you refuse to tell me for whatever reason, I know you have some sort of ace up your sleeve. If anyone doesn’t have to worry about fighting the Uchiha, it’s you.”

“Plausible deniability, Gen.” she mumbled, then yawned. “I don’t have to be at the Gates for another two hours. I’m ordering nap time. Night.”

Genma was apparently aiming for the Worst Pillow Award because he laughed, shaking her with the force of his chuckles. “Are you sure you aren’t _actually_ part-Nara? But fine, sleep. You’ll need it.”

Sakura couldn’t help but smile as she closed her eyes and cuddled in further, as always unbelievably grateful for whatever twist of fate let her into Genma’s life.

* * *

When she met her team at the Gates, all of her new teammates were already there. Naruto seemed to be arguing with ‘Sai’ over something, while their team leader just watched.

“Sakura-chan!” Naruto yelled when he spotted her, running over to her and dragging her towards their pale teammate. “Tell this asshole to can it!”

Sakura assessed situation between the boys, Naruto fuming and Sai smiling in a way so fake it set Sakura on edge.

“By hiding behind Ugly-san, you’re not persuading me at all to change your nickname, Dickless. In fact, you’re proving it right.” Sai said, and it took Sakura a moment to realise ‘Ugly’ was directed at her.

Beside her, Naruto growled, ready to snap again, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yamato tense, so she held up a hand and turned to fully face Sai, her fakest, Kakashi-inspired smile in place.

“I realise that we’ve only been made teammates for the purpose of this mission, but I’d still appreciate if we were able to show some basic professionalism. My name is Haruno Sakura. I expect you to use it, Sai, was it?”

Naruto gawked at her, but their team leader relaxed, so Sakura counted that as her win, even more so when Sai eventually bowed his head.

“I apologise, Haruno-san. The books I read recommended giving the people you meet nicknames based on the first thing that comes to mind when you meet them.” Sai explained, and Sakura mentally catalogued _had to read books on social interaction_ to the folder dedicated to ‘why this whole mission is giving me the creeps’.

“Then remind me to recommend you some books on basic manners when we get back to the Village. You might find yourself less likely to land in the hospital if you read those first.” She replied, and, because she was looking for it, she saw Sai tense.

“Was that a threat, Haruno-san?”

“Not at all.” She smiled innocently, waving him away. “Just some advice. Teammate to teammate. I look forward to working with you.” And she turned on her heel and moved to stand beside their team leader.  

Naruto went back to squawking at Sai, but Yamato this time turned to her.

“That was skilfully handled.” He observed, “Not many teenage girls would have let the insult slide.”

“I am a jounin of my Village before I am a teenage girl, Yamato-san. If we all let playground insults affect us, we’d never get anything done.” She replied, noticing the minute widening of the man’s eyes when she mentioned ‘jounin’.

“You’re Shiranui’s partner.” He said, more of a statement than a question, and Sakura nodded with a murmured, ‘yes, sir’. “Why were you assigned to this mission though? Godaime-sama isn’t in the habit of splitting partners up.”

Sakura shrugged, offering the man a wry smile. “I’m Naruto’s old genin teammate. I think Tsunade-sama was humouring his sentimentality more than anything else.”

“Ah,” Yamato murmured, as if he’d had an epiphany. “You’re senpai’s third student.”

“Senpai…?” Sakura mumbled, then her eyes widened. “Ah.” And she suddenly knew exactly who she was talking to. The only other canine mask in ANBU. The best performance record in ANBU under the Sandaime. And, under rumours, conjecture, and hastily-pieced together redacted records from the T&I and Intelligence archives, the only survivor of Orochimaru’s attempts at recreating the Shodai’s kekkei genkai.

She shook her head at the questioning look she received from the jounin and they set off.

* * *

When they finally made camp, Sakura was very tempted to put her entire team under genjutsu just to shut them up. Naruto and Sai did not shut up the whole way to the rest point, and if Sakura had to explain emotions and interpersonal relationships to Sai one more time, she would have gone mad.

But as they all crawled into their tents, Yamato’s clones spread out around them keeping watch, Sakura waited until her teammates’ breaths evened out then snuck out of her tent. She pulled back the zip of Yamato’s tent and ignored the man’s start, crawled in and slapped a silencing tag between them.

“Evening, Yamato-san.” She greeted calmly, ignoring the slightly indignant stare she was on the receiving end of. “I think it might be beneficial to the both of us to touch base, so to speak.”

Yamato narrowed his eyes but obediently put down his book and sat up. “And why could we not have done this during the day?”

“Because I doubt you would’ve wanted Sai to overhear that you’re here to watch him.” She pointed out innocently, frowning when Yamato froze in place at her words. “Relax. They can’t hear us.” She gestured at the tag she’d stuck down. “But I know that, apart from Naruto, all of us have some ulterior motives for being here, a secondary mission, if you will. I don’t need to know the specifics of yours,” she assured him, when the man looked ready to argue. “But I have an inkling nonetheless. I do, however, want you to know mine.”

Yamato relaxed, but there was still a guarded look in his eyes. “Go on?”

“I am here to bring Uchiha Sasuke back. _Not_ the way Naruto is. No matter what. By force, if necessary. By breaking every little bone in his body, if I need to, so I can take him back to face trial in Konoha. That’s my mission. And I want you to know, Yamato-san, that you will be needed to keep Naruto in check should he happen to see me. He still believes Sasuke can be saved. He still believes that whatever ‘bond’ he might have had with him will be enough to convince him to come back. It won’t. The Uchiha Sasuke that I remember before his defection was bitter, power-hungry, and overtaken by a single-minded drive to avenge his family, whatever the cost. His bond with Naruto won’t even register on his radar. But Naruto is an optimist at heart and he will not take that lying down. So I want you to take him away.”

Yamato startled, then grew suspicious. “Explain, ‘take him away’.” He ordered gruffly, and Sakura quirked a wry smile.

“Orochimaru will likely be there. Let him try his hand at the Sannin, if he must. But last time Sasuke provoked an emotional reaction from him that I know of, he underwent a partial jinchuuriki transformation.” She saw Yamato pale at her words. “I think I know why Tsunade-sama assigned you particular to this mission, but I would rather it didn’t come to that. Do you see what I am asking?”

Slowly, the jounin nodded an affirmative. “I will try to keep Uzumaki-san away from the Uchiha after the initial confrontation, and provided there is no threat or provocation from Sai.” He told her blandly. “But I would like to know _how_ you know about me. I wasn’t briefed about your mission so I doubt you would have been briefed about mine.” This time, his tone wasn’t so bland, but instead held a clear note of threat, of challenge. Sakura was suddenly reminded of Genma’s words before they went to rescue the Kazekage; _“do you realise how much danger you put yourself in? If anyone hears you talking about this, you could be tried and stripped of your rank!”_

For the first time since she heard those words, or since she first decided to take out files she didn’t actually have the proper clearance or authorisation for all those months ago, that became a real concern. Because Yamato didn’t know her. He wouldn’t be as fond of her as Genma, or as secretly-indulgent as Ibiki, or as proud of her for finding loopholes in the system as Anko would be. Yamato could, and most likely _would_ view her as a security threat.

So Sakura took a deep breath and settled for the safest option – an embellished truth.

* * *

Yamato knew of his senpai’s female student only vaguely, having spent too long in ANBU to be able to keep up with most of the Village gossip. Connecting ‘senpai’s student’ to ‘Shiranui’s partner’ was a jarring thought, but it was nothing compared to the girl’s rolled-up sleeve revealing an ANBU tattoo. Not all that new, either. The words that followed were even worse; “You are famous and I was curious. It wasn’t hard to listen in to gossip or recognise your chakra once I knew where I’d felt it first. I also work at T&I, and have almost unrestricted access to the files kept there. I’m sorry if what I said startled you – nobody outside of T&I really knows what we do there, and this, well,” she gestured to her tattoo, “is pretty clear why this wouldn’t be common knowledge. I hope this hasn’t changed your decision to help me?”

Yamato blinked, then slowly shook his head. “I will still assist you, if I can.” He confirmed, then watched relief blossom across the girl’s face, lighting up her features and chasing away the heavy frown of worry that had marred her brow, suddenly making her look years younger. Freer.

“Thank you, Yamato-san.” She murmured, entirely sincere, and bowed her head before bidding him goodnight. When she left, Yamato settled back against his covers and sighed.

 _“They gave me Itachi’s brother, sensei’s son, and a civilian girl. I can’t fail them, Tenzo, but what am I going to do with_ kids _?”_

_“Sasuke is skilled, but he’s no Itachi. Naruto has Kushina-hime’s chakra stores, but none of sensei’s control. I don’t know what to do with the civilian girl.”_

_“Zabuza Momochi on our first C-Rank. Even Team Ro’s first mission wasn’t that fucked up.”_

_“Naruto lost control of the fox for a minute.”_

_“Sasuke unlocked his Sharingan.”_

_“I’ve nominated them for the Chunin Exams.”_

_“Orochimaru was after Sasuke. God, Tenzo, how do I protect the kid from a_ Sannin _?!”_

And then, at last –

_“Sakura-chan surprised me.”_

_“Sakura became chunin.”_

_“Sasuke defected.”_

_“Naruto left.”_

_“Sakura won’t talk to me.”_

_“God, Tenzo, I fucked up again.”_

And then, when Yamato was swamped with ANBU missions and Kakashi was taking on more and more frequent high-ranking missions to make up for the shortages in the forces, even their sporadic talks ceased. But the girl’s lightning-quick rise through the ranks reached even him, as did his senpai’s team’s official dissolution.

Yamato’s respect for Kakashi knew no bounds.

Yet he couldn’t help but wonder whether he shouldn’t have given such an easy acquiesce to the girl’s request. Because back in the day, _Uchiha_ to _Jounin_ in three years’ time was not ‘common’, but it wasn't  _completely_ unheard of.

But _civilian nobody_ to _jounin/ANBU/interrogator/assassin_ in three years? That _never_ happened. And for _Kakashi_ of all people to have missed when it happened?

There was something they were missing, he was sure.

He only hoped he could see it in time.

* * *

The base exploding hadn’t surprised Sakura.

The knowledge that Sai had been a spy sent by some sub-division of ANBU hadn’t either. She had figured as much.

Sai’s mission had given her pause, but the fact that he had been unsuccessful was a comfort. A cold one, but a comfort nonetheless.

But nothing could have prepared her for the fight that broke out.

Sasuke was…lazy. Mocking. Showing off. Exploiting Naruto’s trust, Sai’s sudden empathy, Yamato’s lack of familiarity with either his or his charges’ fighting styles.

Sakura hung back and watched even as Yamato was ran through with Sasuke’s blade, even as Sai and Naruto were mercilessly electrocuted. She watched and catalogued and strategized and sent her clones and explosives underground and _waited –_

And then she could wait no more.

She lashed out with her chakra strings, hauling Naruto and Sai’s still-twitching bodies out of the makeshift arena and atop the cliff edge, then shared a meaningful look with Yamato, and sensed more than saw him disappear. Then, her attention was on Sasuke.

She bombarded him with kunai tagged with explosive seals, letting them scatter harmlessly after being deflected, but keeping the threat there. Then, she closed in with her daito, testing Sasuke’s skill with his chokuto he carried so proudly. He was good. Better than Kakashi. The lightning chakra that sparkled off his body and sword was enough to make Sakura wary, but not enough to stop her. Yuki was a far craftier opponent, and Chojuro far more skilled, and she matched blades with both often enough to power through the current, the static, the burn of electrocution until she finally knocked Sasuke’s blade out of his hand and stamped on it, the blade shattering into dozens of pieces.

Sasuke’s anger rolled off of him in waves of lightning chakra, and Sakura had to retreat to avoid complete paralysis.

“That’s all you’ve ever been good at; running and hiding.” He sneered as he advanced, yanking the sword’s sheath from his belt and tossing it aside. “I see nothing’s changed.”

“And you,” Sakura snarled back, resisting the urge to advance again, knowing she had surprise on her side if she waited just a little longer – “could always be relied on to underestimate your opponents.” And just as some degree of alarm entered Sasuke’s eyes, Sakura smirked, “Surprise, Uchiha.”

Five clones burst from the ground, surrounding Sasuke, but Sakura knew the distraction would only grant her a second, maybe two.

But that was all she needed.

She swapped places with one of her clones just as two more were destroyed, ducking under Sasuke’s swing and jumping over the sweeping kick, all the while swiping blue-tinged hands over his quads, calf, bicep, lower back-!

Sasuke noticed the numbness, snarled, and Sakura watched his eyes bleed red and the air fill with the sound of a thousand chirping birds, then she _moved._

Palming the seal she’d made, she let Sasuke’s chidori connect with her chest just as she reached up and slapped the paper on his forehead, and on a shuddering exhale, pumped it with all the chakra she had left.

The paper ignited and fell away, black ink bleeding onto Sasuke’s forehead, sinking into skin like tattoo ink, burning red and spreading, then shrinking back into a small, empty circle above each eye, connected by a single line of black ink lit blue.

Sasuke’s Sharingan flickered, then disappeared, and his onyx eyes started jumping wildly, searching, as if –

_As if blind._

Sakura’s body convulsed with the shock of the current still running through her muscles. She ground her teeth and rode it out till the shock faded into tremors, then palmed and swallowed a soldier pill, and watched as Sasuke’s legs folded under him and he tumbled to the ground in a graceless heap, his leg muscles severed, right arm completely immobile, paralyzed from the waist down and blind as a new born.

Sakura took a moment to breathe and brought a green-glowing hand to her right breastbone, glad to notice that her flak jacket and chest armour absorbed most of the momentum and energy of Sasuke’s chidori, but she still had a second-degree burn to treat. She numbed it instead, the injury not that dire, and focused on Sasuke’s prone form.

He couldn’t move a muscle.

Sakura had weaponised the same technique that let her survive her first stint in ANBU. She’d cut his nerves and numbed his muscles, her technique a bastard child of the chakra scalpel and anaesthetic jutsu. Sasuke’s chakra wasn’t sealed, but if he couldn’t move his arms, he couldn’t perform handseals. Even though Sakura knew that the whole-body chidori he’d used on both her and Naruto didn’t require seals, the fact that Sasuke was blind and immobile was clearly too shocking for him to realise that.

Ah, the blindness.

She had resigned herself to kissing Inoichi and Hiashi’s feet for _weeks_ upon her return to the Village.

Inoichi had asked the question that orchestrated this whole scenario, that granted her the satisfaction of Uchiha Sasuke’s defeat _at her hands._

Then, Sakura went to Hiashi.

Neji’s monologue at the Chunin Exams had been her inspiration. If the Hyuuga Cursed Seal could seal their dojutsu away at death, then it had to somehow affect the chakra channels connected to the optic nerves too. But Sakura didn’t want to dabble in juinjutsu. All she wanted was to remove the obvious advantage Sasuke had over any of his opponents, the one factor that let him get the drop on Anko – his Sharingan. So she asked Hiashi for a crash course in the Sharingan, what with it being a mutation of the Byakugan, and wheedled and flattered and argued and persuaded until she was blue in the face, and finally he acquiesced. She had been sworn to keep everything she learnt in the Hyuuga Compound to herself, and to return any unused seals she came up with to the Hyuuga patriarch, which she had thought fair and promptly agreed. What she found out was…underwhelming.

The Byakugan and the Sharingan required chakra to activate them and keep them going. A constant stream that could cause enormous strain on the body and ocular nerves, and the already sensitive chakra pathways connecting the eyes to the main chakra system. If she simply _blocked_ those pathways, the chakra wouldn’t be able to get to the Sharingan and activate it. And, because all ninja became used to unconsciously cycling chakra through their muscles and enhancing their senses at all times, the blindness was Sasuke’s body getting used to sight without the aid of chakra.

The seal, in its entirety, was almost painfully simple – it was a chakra dam, a plug in the ocular chakra pathways.

Uchiha Sasuke, the genius, the prodigy, the Last Uchiha, brought down by basic medical ninjutsu and a single seal.

It was laughable.

It was underwhelming.

And, Sakura realised, her lip curling in disgust, painfully unsatisfying.

She wanted him to _suffer._ It wasn’t enough to simply beat him, to incapacitate him. She wanted to _crush him,_ to _humiliate him beyond the point of no return._

It was as if something in her mind _broke._

She didn’t notice the box in the back of her mind bursting open until she was towering over Sasuke and crushing his femur with a chakra-laden foot. She didn’t notice all her anger, all her bitterness and resentment and grief flood to the forefront of her mind until she was snarling and stamping on his hand, shattering the delicate metacarpals with nary a thought. She didn’t notice her mouth moving, forming vicious, rancorous words _‘this is for my parents, you fuck’, ‘for Anko’, ‘for Tonbo and Naruto and Kakashi and-!’_ as she crushed his radius, humerus, tibia and metatarsals with her feet with no thought nor mercy. She didn’t notice that Sasuke was sobbing until she had knelt down beside him and was knuckle-deep in his eye socket and his scream jerked her into awareness.

The bile that rose up her throat was unintentional, but the decision to crook her fingers and gouge out the eyeball was completely lucid.

There was a sense of macabre curiosity as she observed the red tissue and muscles and nerves still surrounding and dangling off the eye clutched in her bloodied fingers.

Then, Sakura had to hastily turn away and vomit, and with the acrid smell of the contents of her stomach came the dawning horror of what she had just done. Sasuke was still screaming, his voice hoarse now and Sakura vaguely registered the sound of battle above them growing louder, as if nearer.

_Orochimaru. Kabuto. No._

She wiped her mouth with trembling fingers of her free hand, then fished out a jar from the hammerspace seal on her arm, dropping the eye in there and turning back to Sasuke.

_Finish the job or cite accident?_

The thought of repeating the motion now that the adrenaline was wearing off and she was hit with a wave of disgust for herself and her actions made her gag, even though she no longer had anything to throw up.

She carefully sealed the jar in her hammerspace seal too, then wiped her fingers on the dark cloth around Sasuke’s waist and stood up. The sound of battle was too close now, and all it took was one glimpse of black hair and pale skin and _furious_ amber eyes for Sakura to lean down, grab Sasuke by the collar of his shirt, and channel chakra in to one of the only two Hiraishin seals she’d ever planted herself.

A tug, a glimpse of pale yellow eyes, a millisecond of nothing, and then the comforting red of Konohagakure Main Gates, and the nausea of complete chakra exhaustion.

She staggered, but didn’t lose her grip on the Uchiha’s collar.

And then, slowly, people began noticing who, exactly she had in her grasp.

And chaos broke out.

All Sakura focused on was long, pale blond hair and kind amber eyes drawing nearer, so she hefted the Uchiha higher and quirked a wry, tired grin. “Alive.” She murmured, relinquishing her hold.

Then, everything went black.

* * *

Inoichi should've known.

Or guessed, at least.

He should've known no conversation, no offhand remark, regardless how casual, was ever truly offhand, dismissed or forgotten as it normally was, normally should've been. Not with trained assassins, and especially not with trained assassins who moonlight as interrogators and whose career is built around messing with people's minds to the point of being able to convince them up is down.

(he might've fucked up a little.)

He should've known, that time he brought up Sasuke. But it had seemed innocuous at the time, a subtle probe into his patient's psyche.

It had been one of Sakura's worse days; a day where the time in Iwa, the week in a cave in Stone, the things she'd seen and done in ANBU, the sheer number of lives she's already taken had caught up with her. So Inoichi had worked through those feelings with her, and at the end, it seemed prudent to check, to ask, to probe a bit deeper.

All he'd done was say; _"Now that Naruto's back, he'll likely want to go after your old teammate. Have you thought about what you might do if that happens?"_

(Okay, so he'd fucked up _a lot_.)

Sakura's face had gone terrifyingly blank for a moment, the way some of his PTSD patients' expressions sometimes smoothed over when he asked a triggering question. He was about to take the question back and call it a day, but then the rosette's face transformed before his eyes and a saccharine smile replaced the stony façade.

 _"I'm going to gauge out his pretty eyes and drag him to face trial."_ She told him sweetly, in a tone that was scarily reminiscent of Anko at her worst. And then, in a completely different voice, more confused and thoughtful than before, she said, _“I…don’t know.”_

And Inoichi had stupidly ignored the part of his brain that screamed _not good not good abort abort-!_ and stuck to the first statement, and what came out of his mouth was:

_"Oh? Have you found a way to get past his doujutsu?"_

(sweet lord, he fucked up _bad_.)

He should've clocked right around the time her expression switched from saccharine to contemplative, but he hadn't. Didn't realise even when she thanked him a lot more enthusiastically than usual.

It wasn't even when he heard she'd brought the Uchiha back that he caught on, oh no.

It took him hearing that she'd disabled his kekkei genkai with a seal and proceeded to gauge out his eye and break all the major bones in his body that he realised.

Of course, in retrospect, it should've been obvious. She had basic training as a med-nin. She lived and worked with one of the few men who'd had real, first-hand knowledge of the way the Yondaime thought, who'd kept his notes and journals and revamped his signature jutsu into something completely his own. She'd become a tokubetsu jounin at fourteen through force of will and stubbornness and a bucketload of raw skill. She was an ambassador to two countries who'd been outright enemies or tentative allies at best with Konoha for decades.

The worst thing was that he really hadn't meant anything by it - it should've been impossible, preposterous even, to think of blocking a doujutsu with anything short of a more powerful one.

But if there's anything he'd learnt over almost three years as Sakura's therapist, the one thing that he bitterly yet proudly recalled now, it was the fact that the rosette had stopped believing in the word "impossible" even before she came to him.

* * *

When Sakura awoke, it was to a steady beeping, a hard bed, metal around her wrists and the sound of voices.

Familiar voices.

“I think I should question the brat about the company she keeps. Terror of the Mist, who would’ve thought.”

_…Anko?_

“I could say the same, Orochimaru’s apprentice. But I won’t, because I’m _nice._ ”

_…Yuki?_

Sakura’s heart rate sped up and her eyes flew open as she sat up, only to almost wrench her arms out of their sockets by the cuffs round her wrists.

_Cuffs?_

She pushed that to the back of her mind and frantically looked around. Indeed, Yuki was perched on the windowsill of her hospital room, and Anko was sitting up in the chair beside her bed, crutches resting beside her and clad in clearly stolen male pants and navy shirt.

“S-senpai?” Sakura choked out, her eyes unconsciously filling with tears. “B-but…?”

Anko smiled, soft and gentle, and staggered to her feet. She hobbled the meager metres between her and Sakura’s bed and threw her arms around the rosette, and when Sakura automatically went to reciprocate, she found her arms still chained to bars of the bed.

“A little help, please?”

Then Yuki was there, senbon in hand, poking and prodding until there was a decisive _clink_ and the right cuff gave way. She threw her free arm around Anko’s shoulders and buried her face in her senpai’s neck, but it wasn’t until her second arm was also freed that she realised that she didn’t feel as sluggish anymore, that her gaze was sharper, her heart lighter. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots.

She pulled away, indignant and more than a little panicked, “Chakra absorbing restraints? What’s going on!?”

“Bandaged guy insisted.” Yuki replied, and when Sakura’s expression made it clear that _a little more detail would be appreciated, thanks,_ he shrugged. “Some old crony Elder. Had bandages around his head and eye, walked with a cane. Ring any bells?”

Sakura shook her head, no, at the same time as Anko gasped.

“Elder Shimura…?” she murmured, clearly confused, forehead marred with a frown. “But why would he- _oh_.”

“Senpai?” Sakura asked cautiously, but Anko shook her head.

“Not yet. I… I can’t be sure of anything at the moment. What we need to do now is catch you up and take you away from here.”

Obediently, Sakura lowered her feet to the ground and took the offered bundle of clothing, only to pause when she realised what she was holding. She unfolded the grey turtleneck dress and blue kimono and raised an eyebrow at Yuki, at which he laughed.

“What?” he teased. “She’s not supposed to be awake yet,” he pointed at Anko, “and I’m not even supposed to be in the Village. We’re not exactly spoilt for choice here, pinky-chan.” He explained, which brought Sakura to a very important point she’d been ignoring.

“Not that I’m not extremely pleased to see you, but why _are_ you here?”

Anko snorted and murmured something like ‘whipped’ earning herself a narrow-eyed glare and a ‘shut up, dango-chan’, before Yuki turned to Sakura with a smirk. “It miiiight have something to do with the fact that I heard of a very pissed off Snake Sannin rampaging all over Sound and the Land of Rice Fields? And the fact that a certain Uchiha was going to face trial in Konoha after being brought back by his old teammate?”

Sakura paled. “Please tell me that’s not common knowledge.” She begged, sagging with relief when Yuki waved her off and patted her head reassuringly.

“Konoha is keeping a tight lid on it. Unless you’ve got feelers in all six major shinobi Nations, you wouldn’t have heard of it.” And he shrugged, as if having spies across the nations was just an everyday thing for him. “Now, get dressed, pinky-chan, we should ideally get out of the hospital before that nurse wakes up.” And he winked at Anko, who, to Sakura’s surprise, snorted.

When Sakura turned to Anko, her senpai shrugged. “The idiot was trying to give me morphine when I woke up. You don’t drug disoriented jounin. It never ends well.”

Sakura felt indignant on Anko’s behalf, then noticed Yuki’s gaze still on her. “What?”

“Get _dressed,_ pinky-chan.” He repeated, and Sakura let out a quiet ‘oh!’ and grinned apologetically, then tugged off her hospital gown. Yuki spluttered and even Anko made a slight choking sound, but Sakura had already checked that she still had her chest bindings and boxer shorts on, so she didn’t see too much issue as she pulled on the dress and secured the kimono.

“Everything alright?” she asked curiously, noticing that Anko for the first time since she’s known her looked _awkward,_ while Yuki seemed torn between amusement and disbelief.

“There was a perfectly good paravan in the corner of the room.” Yuki snorted, pointing. Sakura followed his gaze and then she couldn’t help laughing as she realised what he was getting at.

“You think that after being partnered with boys or grown men for the last four years I have any place left for modesty? You’re cute, Yuki-san!” she got out between giggles, and even Anko grinned at that.

“Alright, now that that’s sorted, shall we finally _get the fuck out of this hospital_?” she suggested, wording aggressive but her grin never fading.

As one, Sakura and Yuki bent at the waist and gestured to the window. “Lead the way, dango-chan.”

* * *

Inoichi, Shikaku and Kakashi stood behind the two-way mirror in one of the deepest T&I cells, while Ibiki, Tsunade and two ANBU were on the inside, a chained-up, one-eyed Uchiha Sasuke before them. Kakashi seemed deep in thought, gazing at his old student with something very alike despair in his eyes, while the other two jounin watched the proceedings in silence.

“Did you know she was going to do that?” Shikaku asked out of nowhere, voice quiet as he regarded the heavily beat up Uchiha. Tsunade refused to do any more but set his broken bones when he was brought in and no other medic was allowed in the cell, so he had no doubt the boy wasn’t having the greatest time with all his injuries.

“You might need to be a bit more specific, my friend.” Inoichi replied, equally quietly, as he too watched the Uchiha, whose determination to remain uncooperative was waning with every second he was down in the cells. “Do you mean the mutilation, excessive force used, or the fact that she found a way to seal up a dojutsu?”

Shikaku huffed with wry amusement. “I take it it’s a no on all three?”

Inoichi shook his head, ignoring the way Kakashi’s head had snapped to them when he realised who they were talking about. “Patient confidentiality, I’m afraid.” He droned, then focused on Shikaku’s mind, letting the familiar stream of consciousness and neverending thought surround him and –

_‘But I had my suspicions.’_

Shikaku glanced at him, too familiar with the technique to truly startle, then nodded mutely.

Before either of them could react, the door to the dark room burst open and Elder Shimura stormed in, not pausing in his stride until he threw the cell door open too and ground the interrogation to a halt with his presence.

Inoichi saw Ibiki’s face turn to stone at the sight of the Elder, and Tsunade looked flat out outraged even as she waved at her ANBU guards to stand down.

But Shimura didn’t care, “His Sharingan was _sealed_?!” he snarled, visible eye raking over the seal marking the Uchiha’s forehead, spittle flying in his rage. “I’ve already secured the traitor but this is _treasonous-!_ ”

“What traitor?” Tsunade snapped immediately, gaze flickering to Sasuke then to the glass, where Kakashi stood, tense as a drawstring.

“The _girl_ that did this, but this is irrelevant, unseal him immediately-!” Danzo hissed, rounding on Tsunade but Shikaku was quicker, his _kagenui_ shooting out, sneaking through the open door and immobilising the Elder, all within a millisecond.

Tsunade turned to the window once again, a terse “Hatake!” on her tongue, but Kakashi was already gone, a mere poof of smoke to betray that he was ever there in the first place.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t order me how to deal with my prisoners, Councilman.” Ibiki said, deceptively calm, and Inoichi winced. He rarely heard Ibiki use that tone, and when he did, it never ended well. “And the Sharingan cannot be unsealed by anyone but the sealer as it’s a blood _and_ chakra seal. But you’re familiar with those, aren’t you, Shimura-san?”

The doors to the dark room opened once again, and a pale man came in, boy really, little older than Shikamaru, in a top exposing his mid-riff and chakra cuffs on his wrists. When he entered the cell, Danzo snarled, the only movement Shikaku’s jutsu allowed him. The boy bowed, and when he straightened, he stuck out his tongue.

On it, was a seal.

That close to the source, the chakra that emanated from the seal was undeniable.

“Shimura Danzo,” Ibiki intoned, as more of Tsunade’s ANBU walked through the door, the cell filling up considerably as gradually, the ANBU replaced Shikamaru’s shadow binds with their own. “you are under arrest for running your own paramilitary group, disobeying a direct order from the Sandaime which called for its dissolution, sabotaging your own Village’s fellow shinobi, attempting to sabotage the Village’s relations with our allies and subjugating orphaned youth to do your bidding by means of forbidden juinjutsu. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say–”

Inoichi exchanged a startled look with Shikaku, watching as the ANBU knocked the Councilman out and took him away. Then, the Uchiha, who had somehow been side-lined in all the commotion despite starting out as the main event, finally spoke.

“Orochimaru has one like that.” He said flatly, though with a hint of curiosity as he turned his head to watch the door shut behind the ANBU. When he realised he had both Tsunade and Ibiki’s attention focused solely on him, he frowned. “That seal. Orochimaru has one like that too.”

Tsunade paled.

* * *

When they realised that all their usual places – Anko’s apartment, Sakura’s house or even Shikamaru’s place – would likely be the first places where people would look for them, Sakura had an idea.

And, as she walked into Raido and Eri’s house, picking up a toddling Kei as she went along and sitting him on her hip, Anko and Yuki on her heels, she couldn’t help but laugh at the faces of the two jounin she brought with her. Anko was staring in obvious distrust at the toddler stuck to Sakura’s side, while Yuki was torn between wary and constipated as Sakura walked up and gave the clearly civilian woman a warm hug.

“Sorry to impose on you, Eri-san, but we seem to have run into a bit of a situation.” The rosette explained, gesturing to the two stupefied adults behind her and sharing a meaningful grin with the civilian.

“Don’t be silly, Sakura-chan, you’re not imposing! Do you mind if I leave Kei-chan with you while I pop to the market? I’ve got to buy some more food if I’m cooking for six.” She teased, and with a wink, and a kiss on her son’s forehead, she grabbed her bags and sauntered out the house.

Sakura delighted in Kei’s cheerful “’Kuwa-nee!” and obligingly called forth the butterflies, putting a bit more effort into the feel and texture of the illusion since Kei was no longer as easily distracted.

Then she laughed at Anko and lightly elbowed Yuki in the ribs, and they got down to business.

* * *

Kakashi, of all people, was the first one to find them.

The double-take he did at seeing Anko, who had been in a coma for half a year, and then Yuki, who for all intents and purposes was a foreign-nin who had, over the course of his career, earned himself the nickname of the ‘Terror’, was disproportionately hilarious to Sakura. Then, as if drawn by her laughter, Kakashi’s eye flickered to her and the child on her lap, and he sat heavily on the pouf, confusion writ clearly on the visible parts of his face.

“What.” The word was far too flat to be a question, but Sakura found the sentiment appropriate nonetheless.

Still, there was a blatant lack of Genma’s comforting obnoxiousness, so she grinned wryly and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Hey, all I did was wake up shackled to a bed. Ask them.” And she pointed at the two arguably craziest, but some of the most reliable people she had the pleasure of knowing.

Yuki smirked, completely unrepentant. “I heard a Sannin found himself an Uchiha short, so I came here since I had a suspicion pinky-chan was responsible. Saw the old coot who is apparently one of your Elders chakra-manacle her to a bed, then heard dango-chan beating up her nurse. Helped dango-chan with the nurse, then we realised pinky-chan was a common concern of ours so voila.  If anything, I’m a saint in this scenario.” By the end of his explanation, Yuki had three unimpressed glares directed his way, but Sakura couldn’t help the grin that threatened to break out, at least until Kakashi asked,

“So, you know about Danzo, then?”

Sakura let Anko answer; “Only that he tied the kid to her bed with chakra-absorbing cuffs.”

Suddenly, two more figures appeared, and Sakura was torn between confused and grateful at the sight of Shikaku and Inoichi.

“Anko?” was Inoichi’s first word, then, “Sakura-chan, you certainly don’t make yourself easy to find- is that Raido’s son?!”

Shikaku sighed, sent his friend a meaningful look, then turned to the four assassins in the room.

“Elder Shimura has been arrested and will be tried for treason. As will the Uchiha.” He focused on Kakashi and Sakura, who had both frozen at the news. “You may be asked to testify for both.”

In the silence that followed the announcement, Yuki laughed and ruffled Sakura’s hair.

“Well, this will be fun, hm?”

 


	24. Trial: I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from my shame-cave after two months of inactivity*  
> 'uni is comparatively time-consuming to a toddler' is my only explanation #whoops  
> tbf, i had like, a quarter of this chapter saved since january, but i've only been able to write the rest and make it vaguely coherent this weekend (easter break is a blessing)
> 
> i was blown away by the largely positive feedback on Oro's possible redemption arc, so thank you! however, if it happens, it won't be for another two/three chapters yet. Pein's Assault arc is coming up in a bit, so it'll probably be thereabouts, if at all~ not spoiling anything~
> 
> also, just in case it's not clear: *this author thinks Uchiha Sasuke got off too easily in canon*  
> so, rectifying that. (come at me, Sasuke apologists) [jk jk, my only beef is with Kishi. but just in case Sasuke's your fave... soz]
> 
> anyway! tell me what you think!

Once the surprise of the upcoming trials wore off and they were caught up on the charges pressed against Danzo and the bare bones of the operation Ibiki and Tsunade had been running right under everyone’s noses, things… relaxed a bit. Kakashi got into a battle of wills with Yuki, Shikaku took over entertaining Kei, and Anko dutifully went to help Eri-san in the kitchen, after a unanimous decision that everyone feared Anko in the kitchen far less than they feared Anko with a baby. Then, Sakura finally found the time to seek out Inoichi.

The man noticed her coming and stood up, and Sakura quietly led him to the guest bedroom which was sometimes her and Genma’s when they were babysitting Kei or too lazy to leave after dinner at the Namiashi household. Once they sat down on the double bed, Sakura sighed, and Inoichi chuckled.

“Tough week, hm?” he offered, not unkindly, and Sakura couldn’t quite hold back the snort.

“Week. Mm. Tough month? Year, really.” She shrugged, then fell back on the bed with another sigh. “My head’s a bit of a mess, Inoichi-san. And I… lost control. With Sasuke, I mean. I never meant– I didn’t mean to let it go that far. I wanted to bring him back, just to put this whole affair to an end, and maybe I did want to hurt him, just a little… but not like that.”

 _No shit._ Inoichi thought darkly, but refrained from voicing that particular thought. Instead, he hummed and leaned back on his hands, looking up at the ceiling in thought, but before he could speak, Sakura continued, quieter than a whisper this time. “But… I don’t regret it.”

Inoichi paused, then nodded slowly. “…That’s understandable. Is there anything you can identify as a trigger to your behaviour?”

Sakura took a deep breath and thought. This part was familiar. This part she could do. But this also meant telling Inoichi what even Tsunade didn’t know the full extent of.

“Senpai’s coma was a poorly-handled trigger.” She admitted, then closed her eyes and tried to relax. “Naruto’s return. The idea of Team 7 coming back together – it’s something a small, naïve part of my brain still wants, this idyllic relationship with my genin team, but then… I like what I’ve built for myself, and going back to them would be sacrificing that. Then there was Shikamaru’s… loss. And then… when Genma and I fought Deidara.” She felt more than saw Inoichi snap to attention. “Genma’s gotten good at barrier seals, but the tag he used was an old model. He’d tethered it to his own chakra. It was going to suck him dry for nothing, because Deidara wasn’t incapacitated, just trapped. So I… tampered with it.”

She kept her eyes closed, even as she heard Inoichi draw a sharp breath. “I _know_ Genma. Inside and out, I know his chakra, his thought process, the way he approaches fuinjutsu like it’s a dance rather than a set of orders. It wasn’t difficult to alter the seal even with the barrier already up. All I did was switch the energy source, from Genma’s chakra to… to the natural chakra around us.” Inoichi’s sudden silence meant more than any words he could’ve said. “Deidara blew himself up. He committed suicide. The barrier held. But… when we got back… all the life force of the area of forest I had extended the seal to had been drained. Trees, grass, flowers, animals – all dead. And I… it grated at me more than anything I have done as a Konoha shinobi so far. More than any of the lives I’ve taken. And I don’t understand _why._ ”

To his credit, Inoichi managed to limit his reaction to a small tremor in his voice. “Do you not understand, or do you just not want to admit it to yourself? I won’t judge you, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura grit her teeth and sat up, then levelled the blond with a serious stare, brimming with fear and confusion and a trace of disgust. “Because I felt like I was playing _god_.” She admitted, voice wobbling, eyes filling with unbidden tears. “Shinobi do impossible things on a daily basis – we command the elements, walk upside down, summon sentient animals and have them follow our command – we do things civilian children read about in fairy tales. But that… there are still limits to what we can or what we _should_ be able to do. And that was so far beyond that limit, I couldn’t–!... I reminded myself of those I hate most. Shinobi who’ve engaged in something _unnatural._ And yet, what I did… that was more than unnatural, and for equally selfish reasons. I messed with _natural energy,_ Inoichi-san. And how does that make me anything other than an enormous hypocrite?”

There was an odd light in Sakura’s eyes, not quite fury, not quite fear, but more like… contemplation. Inoichi wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at, but he tried to respond nonetheless; “What you did, Sakura-chan,” he began, choosing his words carefully, “was for within your orders-!”

“Don’t, Inoichi-san.” Sakura cut him off, frowning severely. “That’s a slippery slope of an excuse that I don’t want to go down. I wasn’t ordered to alter the seal like that. I _chose to._ And, again, I don’t regret it, but it _terrified me._ ”

Surprisingly, Inoichi smiled. “Then you’re not a hypocrite at all, Sakura-chan. You’re aware of the dangers, and you’re aware of your own morality.”

Sakura snorted derisively. “I’m aware that my morality is fickle, Inoichi-san, and entirely dependent on a select few people I hold dear.” She admitted, and Inoichi paused.

“This is not just about the forest, is it, Sakura-chan?” he asked quietly, and Sakura slumped and shook her head. “You’re trying to convince me you’re somehow awful or immoral, but I’m not so easily swayed. Yes, you went overboard with Sasuke. You tampered with something I’m struggling to grasp, but it was to save a comrade. Yes, you selfishly wish to keep the relationships you’ve made yourself, your little family of choice close to you instead of forsaking it for what has failed you once before – but that doesn’t make you a bad person. Sakura-chan, you are an incredible, talented, loyal young woman, and a valuable kunoichi of the Leaf. It’ll take more than a breakdown and a fuinjutsu misstep to change my mind.”

Sakura regarded the blond for a moment, surprised and oddly touched, and it was as if something flipped. “I… thank you.” She stuttered out, then offered the blond a hesitant smile. “I’ll book a proper appointment in a bit, I just needed to get this off my chest.”

And Inoichi smiled, bright and warm, and extended a hand. “Do you feel up to joining the others?”

Helpless to do anything but reciprocate the smile, Sakura nodded and allowed the blond to pull her to her feet. “Yeah. Here’s to hoping they’re still alive, what with senpai cooking dinner.”

Sakura pretended that she didn’t hear Inoichi’s snort and muttered ‘kami help them’ and grinned instead.

* * *

Over dinner – which, to Anko and Eri-san’s credit, was surprisingly edible – Sakura found out that Genma had been sent on a week-long mission to Hidden Valleys almost as soon as word of what she had done got around.

 _Plausible deniability,_ Sakura realised, and decided Tsunade was her favourite kage thus far, for protecting Genma when she wasn’t able to and in a way that the jounin wasn’t able to refuse.

Then, she found out that Team 10’s mission had been a success, and they got back the day after Sakura hauled the Uchiha into the Village. Which reminded her–

“Ano, Shikaku-san, how’s Shikamaru doing?” she asked once everyone had finished with their meal, grinning when Yuki got up to help with the dishes, only just managing to hold back a snort at Kakashi’s disbelieving expression. The _Terror of the Mist_ in an _apron_ and _yellow rubber gloves._ She wondered how the Copy-Nin was handling that.

Then, she focused on Shikaku. “Better, Sakura-chan.” The Nara replied, and Sakura sighed, relieved. “Whatever you did with him when you got back, it helped, and being able to personally avenge his sensei must’ve done something too.”

“What _did_ you do?” Anko asked curiously, watching suspiciously as Sakura tried to feed Kei some peeled apple slices without the toddler grimacing and turning away, which, _understandable_ , Sakura thought, but still teetering between amusing and irritating.

“Basic grief counselling.” She informed her senpai, then elaborated when Inoichi and Kakashi both looked curious. “I got him to talk about Asuma-san, their fondest memories, his hobbies and so on… then supplemented that with emotional and physical comfort and, well. Just… being there, really.” She finished with a shrug.

“Is that why you didn’t come see me after the Kazekage retrieval mission?” Inoichi asked, and at her nod, chuckled quietly. “’Select few’ indeed.” He murmured, too quiet for anyone but Sakura and Kakashi to hear.

And then, the front door opened again, and Sakura couldn’t fight the smile that bloomed on her face.

“Shikamaru!”

* * *

With the way Sakura barrelled into him and almost knocked him off his feet with the force of her momentum, as well as the blinding grin she gifted him with when she pulled away enough for him to see her face, he never would have said this was the same girl who broke the Uchiha until he couldn’t run away and gouged out his eye not even a week earlier.

But Sakura had always been a paradox, gentle and pink and polite in one instant, then cold and vicious and devastating the next, and Shikamaru found himself selfishly grateful, not for the first time, that he was firmly on the list of people she would never turn her more destructive abilities against.

The girl in his arms was a hurricane trapped in a bottle, and yet he felt no fear when he let his forehead _thunk_ gently against hers. Sakura’s expression softened, and the blinding grin turned into a small, private smile, and a murmured, “It’s good to see you.”

Before he could reply, there was a cheer from inside the house and when Shikamaru looked up, Yuki of all people stood at the other end of the hallway, wearing obnoxious yellow gloves and a pink ‘ _Kiss the Cook’_ apron.

“You look cosy, shadow-boy.” The assassin teased, and Sakura laughed, though didn’t relinquish her hold, making Shikamaru feel a bit more justified when he smirked and shot back-

“And you look ridiculous.”

“Hey!” Yuki crowed, though there was only humour behind it. “Can’t you read? It says _kiss_ the cook, not _insult_ the cook!”

Sakura pulled away enough to twist back and grin at the hunter-nin. “If you come over here, I’ll do just that.” She offered, and in less time than it took Shikamaru to blink, Yuki had crossed the few metres that separated them.

Shikamaru loosened his grip so Sakura could stand on her tip-toes and press an obnoxious kiss against the assassin’s cheek, giggling when he snorted.

“That is a let-down of epic proportions, pinky-chan. I’m sure even shadow-boy could do better.” Yuki grouched, but he was grinning, so Shikamaru loosened his hold a little more, grabbed the edge of the apron, twisted, and pressed an equally obnoxious kiss to the hunter-nin’s other cheek.

“There. Now you know.” He declared, and Sakura had to lean against the wall to stay upright with the force of her laughter, and at Yuki’s slightly incredulous expression, Shikamaru merely quirked an eyebrow. “Anything to say?”

Yuki stared at them for a few seconds, unblinking and utterly amused, then smirked. “Who’s up for a spar?”

* * *

Because Yuki and Anko were clearly twins separated at birth, they were that alike, they ended up going flat-out, no-holds-barred against each other, both wearing equally unhinged grins. Sakura and Shikamaru were content to watch from the sidelines, trading sarcastic comments and snacks Eri-san had bestowed them with, waiting till the two jounin got all the crazy out of their systems on each other and would be happy with controlled sparring.

In one of the few lulls in the fighting, Sakura decided to address what had been nagging at her since she saw the brunet, “So… I assume you heard about the Uchiha.” She murmured, eyes trained on Shikamaru’s face to catalogue any disgust or fear that could appear, only to draw up short. Shikamaru was… smiling. Content. Proud, even.

“I did.” He replied evenly, turning that odd expression on her in its full force. “Well done, Sakura. Good riddance.”

When Sakura kept staring at him in clear incomprehension, he sighed. “You told me this day would come almost four years ago, right as we got back from Mist. Even then, you could see that Naruto’s method wouldn’t work. You agreed when I said you want to bring him home in a matchbox. You more than most have suffered at the Uchiha’s hands or as an indirect effect of his actions – you’d be more than justified to do it. But instead, you took away the part of him that poses the greatest threat and ensured he would actually have no other option _but_ to face trial. Frankly, Sakura, I admire your restraint.”

Sakura blanked for a few seconds, staring at the Nara in disbelief then slowly, a smile bloomed on her face, tentative and enormously grateful. “Thanks, Shika.” Then, she turned to watch the two assassins spring apart for the umpteenth time and grinned. “Feel like joining them?” she asked, at which Shikamaru snorted.

“I’ll leave that questionable pleasure to you. I’ve got something I wanted to ask my old man about anyway.”

Sakura laughed and stretched, and was about to stand up before a shadow fell over her and Shikamaru. Looking up, she found Kakashi standing over them, an unreadable expression on the visible part of his face.

“Actually, I was hoping I could steal you away for a chat before you go, Sakura-chan.” He said, and Sakura froze for a second then nodded, rising to her feet and waving to Shikamaru.

(the suspicious way the brunet regarded her sensei warmed her heart and exasperated her at the same time. Clearly, she’d need to limit Shikamaru’s interactions with Genma if the former was starting to pick up on her partner’s mannerisms.)

Kakashi led her a little way away from where Shikamaru was sitting and further back from the clearing so Sakura’s view of her senpai and sparring partner was mostly obscured by the trees, then stopped and sighed.

“I don’t blame you for what you did to Sasuke.” he began, and Sakura gaped. Instead of letting her get over her shock, Kakashi barrelled on. “I don’t approve of what you did, I think it was excessively cruel and you’re likely to get some backlash for it…but I don’t blame you. I had a look through your records.” When Sakura recoiled, the expression in Kakashi’s eye turned wry. “Once an ANBU Captain, always an ANBU Captain. With access to paperwork of all active agents. And I’m sorry, Sakura. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make sure that you didn’t go down this career path, to ensure that you could postpone experiencing the grimmest aspects of our lives for at least another few years. I’m sorry for what you had to have done to your imagination to be capable of doing… to cast the illusions you cast. And because of that, I don’t blame you for what you did to Sasuke. But I need to know – are you completely against the idea of ever being Team 7 again?”

Sakura took a few seconds to collect her thoughts, and Kakashi must’ve realised he’d thrown her because he gave her the time she needed to respond. “There was more that played a part in my treatment of Sasuke than just a string of bad missions, but… thanks for understanding. And no. I love the idyllic notion of a team – team as family, closest bonds you’ll ever have, reliable mentors and people with whom you can experience all the milestones in your shinobi career… But that was never our team. I was too weak and uninterested in being a proper shinobi at first, Naruto was too oblivious, Sasuke too self-absorbed, and you too detached. There were times we could’ve done something with it. After Wave, or after the Chunin Exams even – we were close, working together in the Forest of Death, but we needed something to _keep_ us together. I will admit that I could’ve tried harder. But at the time, I was getting to know Genma, reeling after losing my parents, dealing with becoming chunin… clinging onto relationships that I felt were detrimental to my recovery seemed pointless. So I let them go.” She sighed, then looked Kakashi in the eye, noting his surprise at the fact she was more resigned than angry, which had been the tone of most of their previous conversations. “And now it’s too late. Sasuke will stand to face trial, I will testify in his detriment, Naruto will never forgive me for what I did to Sasuke…” she sent Kakashi a wry grin. “It’s up to you, sensei. Unite us or let us drift apart for good.”

Kakashi assessed her for a few seconds, then slowly reached up, letting her see his hand coming, and lightly patted her on her head. “That’s more reasonable than I expected. You’ve grown, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura shrugged, feeling ever so slightly awkward even as she quirked a grin. “Sasuke is in the Village. Genma is _out_ of the Village. There are four less Akatsuki to worry about. Anko is awake. I’m happy that all the precautions have either been taken or losses avenged. And I realised that I don’t want to be a hypocrite, or become so embittered by my anger than I can’t move on. So, perspective.”

Kakashi seemed to smile, then nodded. “We’ll see how the trial goes. Take care, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura, taking that as a dismissal, nodded, flicked two fingers up in a bastardised salute, and turned to join Anko and Yuki, a grin forming on her face at Yuki’s crow of excitement when she appeared.

_This is going to be fun._

* * *

As usual when her and Anko sparred outside of the T&I basements, or Yuki was in the Village, a small crowd of nosy shinobi flocked to the outskirts of the training grounds, some amused, others sneering, but it didn’t change the fact that suddenly, the onlookers of their impromptu spar had more than quadrupled.

Still, Sakura didn’t let that stop her as she wove and danced between Anko and Yuki, missing her daito something fierce and reduced to the single wakizashi Yuki had lent her and a handful of kunai and shuriken she’d grabbed from the ground or mid-air. Most of her kit was with her clothes which she was informed Genma had taken back to their house soon after she’d been brought in, and she was justifiably unwilling to dive into her hammerspace seal, especially when she thought about what the last thing she’d sealed in there had been.

Even as she thought that and dodged Yuki’s swipe at her head, she noted that the assassin was a lot more careful in the placement and speed of his strikes when directing them at Anko even though he was his usual vicious self with Sakura. When the rosette realised _why_ Yuki was being so careful – because he knew that she had just woken up from a six month coma that very day – she nearly stopped the match in favour of tackling the man in a hug.

Medic-nin were amazing in the ways that they could minimise the loss of musculature the way civilian doctors could only dream of, but that didn’t change the fact that Anko had been on bed-rest for _months_.

Still, Sakura knew that if she made it known that her and Yuki were taking it a bit easy on Anko, her senpai would rip them a new one and set her snakes on them, so she kept up with the spar and decided to hug Yuki later.

And then, as she chanced a small cut from Yuki’s wakizashi in order to tug his feet out from under him by chakra strings, a commotion appeared on the edges of the training grounds.

“ _SAKURA!!_ ” a black and orange blur burst from the foliage and Sakura tensed as it sped towards her, already having an inkling as to who it was going to be.

Yuki, however, didn’t, and reacted just as he would’ve done to any other threat and stepped in front of her, twin blades crossed defensively. And then, proving that he was very much _not human_ , Naruto brushed the jounin aside with a clawed backhand, orange, vicious, corrosive chakra surrounding his body in a way that made Sakura more nervous than she’d care to admit.  

And then, Naruto zeroed in on her, and she barely dodged the first punch that came at her face with the intent to _hurt._

“We were meant to bring him back!” her old teammate roared, rage and frustration and grief in his voice, “Bring him _back to us_ , not _break_ him and _imprison_ him!!” with every word that came out of his mouth came another punch or kick, wild and uncontrolled and unpredictable and aimed to hurt, but Sakura did her best to dodge and stay out of reach (Yuki still wasn’t up and she didn’t want to think what that chakra had done to him, what it could’ve caused just because he tried to _defend her-!_ )

Then, when Naruto came close enough, Sakura tried to slap a paralysis seal on his wrist, hissing at the way her skin burnt and blistered when she pressed the paper to his body, then watched in more than slight horror as the orange chakra _burnt through_ her seal, and Naruto swung at her again, seemingly not even noticing her efforts.

“Did you feel anything at all?! When you shoved your fingers into his eye or broke his legs so he couldn’t run-?!”

“I was fulfilling my mission!” Sakura snapped back, narrowly dodging a clawed swipe that would’ve taken out her eye, feeling her cheek blister. “Not everyone is as indulgent of traitors as you are, Naruto!”

“Traitors?!” her teammate bristled and lunged, but this time, Sakura side-stepped and jumped away, hands flashing through seals for Anko’s gift for her jounin promotion that almost didn’t make her wince anymore. _Hidden Shadow Snake Hands!_

Snakes appeared from the billowing sleeve of her borrowed kimono and shot towards Naruto, wrapping around him and constricting just slightly even as two burst from the pressure of the chakra he was exuding. Finally, Naruto was restrained and the orange chakra faded, even if the murderous glare in his eyes stayed. Sakura kept her arm outstretched, not caring that the clearing around them had fallen silent.

“I need you to listen to me!” she ordered, feeling the not inconsiderable drain on her chakra from maintaining the technique but aware that if she were to drop it, Naruto would go right back to attacking her. “I know you love him, but your ‘bond’ or whatever you cling to isn’t enough anymore, Naruto! The moment Uchiha Sasuke attacked Konoha shinobi, the value of his kekkei genkai was no longer enough to keep him safe from punishment. He would’ve been immune to reason, and if I’d simply incapacitated him, he would’ve ran away the second he was released. He’s a traitor and he needs to face trial.”

“You keep using that _word._ ” Naruto sneered, the expression alien on his face and his voice dripping with disgust. “And yeah, sure, you’re right, maybe he made some bad choices, and yeah, he betrayed the Village, but, _you_ , Sakura-chan, you’re worse!” Reeling more than if he’d slapped her, Sakura’s control over the snakes wavered, and the technique dispelled. Naruto stayed where he was though, the corrosive kyuubi chakra having receded a few seconds after Sakura caught him even though his eyes still gleamed with barely-restrained fury. “You betrayed your team for your ambition and decided that breaking every bone in your teammate’s body was the right way to ensure he’d stay in the Village! Yeah, Sasuke might be seen as a traitor, but you, you’re a _monster,_ Sakura!”

_Monster._

_Monstermonstermonstermonstermonstermonstermonster-!_

Sakura took a small step back. Then another. Her eyes were burning, her hands shaking, her heart hammering in her chest, but her voice, when she spoke, was steady with a calm she did not feel.

“Ah.” She murmured, letting her arm drop, the sleeve falling past her fingers, covering their tremor. “So that’s how it is.” And then, she reached for that place inside her that assured her she was never _really_ alone, felt the traces of familiar chakra and the blood in the seal, and _pulled._

She was gone between one blink and the next, just a second too soon to see the dawning horror on Naruto’s face as he realised what he’d said.

* * *

Jiraiya had caught sight of his godson at the Village gates, having been recalled to Konoha for a judicial matter Tsunade refused to specify over her message. Just walking through the Village, he’d heard enough to know just what that matter was – Uchiha Sasuke had been apprehended, apparently straight from under Orochimaru’s nose, and was now going to stand trial. When Naruto came barrelling into the Village and heard the same news Jiraiya had; only with the added benefit of knowing that it had been his _teammate_ who had done the apprehending and upon learning just _how_ she’d done it, Jiraiya had gone a little green too. But when Naruto’s eyes turned red and slit-pupiled and a haze of orange chakra surrounded his body and he took off towards the eastern side of the Village, a jounin Jiraiya vaguely recognised as Yamato hot on his heels, Jiraiya didn’t hesitate.

He reached the training grounds just in time to see Naruto throw a familiar but clearly foreign nin twenty feet across the clearing with one, vicious backhand. From there, the blond rounded on the rosette, his strikes brutal and unpredictable, growing all the more frustrated as none connected.

His opponent – ‘Sakura-chan’, if he recalled correctly – was doing an admirable job of keep-away, gracefully dodging the chakra-charged taijutsu barrage by a hair’s breadth, always just a millisecond before the strike would’ve connected. There was something niggling at Jiraiya’s mind, something that said he had seen this before, an odd sense of inexplicable déjà vu and nostalgia as he watched the scene before him. 

He saw the girl attempt to stick what looked like a handmade seal on Naruto, and watched as her face drained of colour when whatever she’d planned was rendered useless by the fox’s chakra.

Jiraiya was certain that he wasn’t the only one to freeze at what happened next.

Snakes burst from the girl’s billowing sleeves, wrapping around her teammate. Familiar snakes. Snakes that had no right being used by any Konoha shinobi bar Mitarashi, and he doubted that woman would’ve ever taken on a pupil, much less taught them _that_ technique.

And then, it clicked.

The pieces slotted together, the jigsaw puzzle forming one, big picture, and Jiraiya felt as though he’d had the breath knocked out of him.

In front of him, his godson, with his sunshine hair and orange jumpsuit; loud, brash, bright and clinging to his morality, to his friends and bonds and humanity. A good man, even if not a good killer.

Before him, his teammate – hair loose, flowing with every movement, the colour not contrasting but highlighting the deadly grace of her movements, clad in a dress and a kimono, impractical for all but those hyperaware of their own bodies, managing to balance and twist out of the way in geta sandals that made Jiraiya’s look like the pinnacle of comfort and practicality. The twist to her lip, the bite to her words, the jaded realism viciously attacking Naruto’s idealism –

He’d seen it all before.

He’d _lived_ it all before.

Just for a second, superimposed over the two teens in the clearing was a mirage of two boys – one, unapologetically optimistic despite the war raging around him, with a big heart and an even bigger dream. And the other – jaded even then, always caustically realistic and brutally efficient and terrifyingly ambitious. Just for a second, pale pink hair became flowing raven, green flashed golden and blonde became brilliant white, and then –!

“-you’re a _monster_!”

The mirage shattered, and in the stillness of the air that followed, the rosette’s sharp recoil was doubly startling. Jiraiya saw the momentary lapse of control – an expression of heartbreak, of betrayal, hurt and disbelief flashed across the girl’s face, emotions so potent that even he felt the hurt bone-deep. And then, like flipping a switch, her features smoothed out, unflappable, cold calm taking over, her gaze flat, distant, and her voice steady when she spoke. The only tell was in the minute tremble of her fingers, hidden almost immediately by the sleeve of her kimono as she retreated.

And then, no seal, no exclamation, just a surge of chakra and there one second, gone the next, just a second before Naruto’s expression crumbled and a strangled, “Wait, Sakura-chan, I didn’t mean it-!” escaped him.

But before he could do anything, before he could so much as _move,_ black shadows streaked across the ground and wrapped around him, eerily reminiscent of the snakes from mere minutes before, and from the foliage came a boy. A Nara, clearly, tall and tanned and brown-haired and –

And _furious._

The teen didn’t stop, even as he raised his fist and swung, connecting with Naruto’s face at the same instant as he cancelled the jutsu that immobilised him, sending the blond flying. He let Naruto crash into the ground then his shadows were wrapping around him again, not a word to betray the technique, just cold fury and a vicious sneer.

“How dare you?” the Nara asked, towering over Naruto’s prone form, disgust and disbelief warring over his face. “How fucking _dare you_? Out of a team comprising a man who became just as famous for killing his friends as he did his enemies, a fucking _jinchuuriki_ and a literal _traitor,_ you choose to call the only loyal member a _monster_?! The only one who stayed in the goddamn Village, fought and killed and bled and struggled and _survived_ against all odds – you call _her_ a monster? Pathetic.”

The Nara stood there for a second, then sneered and released his technique, and with a handseal, he too was gone.

Jiraiya released a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding.

 _Dangerous._ He realised, and cursed. He remembered now, the letter about two chunin in Suna, remembered what he’d promised himself then. Remembered how he’d said he wouldn’t let history repeat itself. And now, history was laughing at him, presenting him with each of his failures at once. And those failures were _dangerous._

* * *

Sakura landed in the middle of a battle.

She located Genma, noted the location of the other man with a Konoha hitai-ate, and focused on the band of miscellaneous missing-nin they were fighting. A handseal and a flex of the last dredges of her chakra later saw a large-scale, carefully-restricted Temple of Nirvana technique fall on the missing-nin, while she made sure Genma and his teammate remained unaffected. Genma, despite his clear surprise at seeing her, didn’t miss the opportunity she’d provided. His senbon found the arteries and delicate veins of the ninja who’d already began to break the genjutsu, while his partner ran his blade through all who’d been completely caught. Within thirty seconds of her arrival, the missing-nin were down; dead, dying or incapacitated, she didn’t care to know. Sakura was glad that Genma’s partner – a man she vaguely recognised from the Chunin HQ – had gotten with the program, as she didn’t think she’d have been able to maintain the illusion, as pin-point accurate as it had to be in order to not affect Genma and his mission partner, and fight at the same time. The fatigue of the day, the fight with Anko and Yuki, and later Naruto, as well as the chakra she’d expended on getting _to_ Genma, was finally showing up and coming to bite her in the ass.

“Kid,” Genma greeted, surprise, curiosity and no small degree of confusion in his voice, “not that it’s not great to see you, but what are you _doing_ here?”

And then, it was as if a dam had burst.

Sakura turned to Genma, eyes burning, and tackle-hugged him, letting all the emotions she’d forced down since waking up in the hospital come to the surface – all the anger, heartbreak, confusion, frustration – until she was holding on to Genma for dear life, and being held in return, shoulders shaking with sobs she didn’t bother smothering and feeling an almost unfathomable relief at finally letting go.

“Ah.” Genma smiled wryly, comprehension dawning, and gently stroked her hair, turning to his partner. “Tsuzumi, mind grabbing on to me?”

His partner, clearly stupefied at the appearance of a crying teenage girl in the middle of what, not two minutes earlier, had been a battlefield, nodded and grabbed onto Genma’s elbow. Not a second later than he had done that, the brunet tugged the three of them along in a whirlwind _Hiraishin._ When they landed at the Main Gates, Tsuzumi let go and staggered, falling to his knees and vomiting into the grass. Sakura felt Genma wince sympathetically, nod to the gate guards, then tug her along into the second _Hiraishin,_ this time ending up at their house.

Genma wriggled a little and she heard his pack drop, then they were waddling over (in a movement that Sakura amusedly noted was not unlike that of penguins, and hiccupped a laugh through her tears) to the sofa, where Genma turned and unceremoniously plonked down, dragging Sakura along with him.

They ended up in a tangle of limbs and elbows, but familiarity and practice found them in a comfortable position within seconds, and Sakura started talking. She went on for what felt like hours, and when she was done, she finally allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief.

“What will I do with you?” Genma asked lightly, still idly stroking back her hair as she cried herself out. “Always biting off more than you can chew and running off into danger.”

Sakura laughed, wet and sniffly and ugly, but free and relieved, and smiled. “You’ve always done amazingly whenever something came up, so I don’t see why that should change now.” She told him through sniffles and smiled at his grumble.

“But that was either related to ridiculous missions, dickish teammates or you growing up too fast. This… this might get me locked up before I can help you. Or find the goddamn Terror and thank him.”

Sakura snorted, “’Locked up’? What for?!”

“Hmm, I’m not 100% sure but I think killing the Village’s jinchuuriki counts as high treason.” Genma told her, a sharp, sly smile on his face that gave Sakura genuine pause.

“Gen, I don’t like that expression. Get it off your face. It makes me feel like you’re going to do something stupid.”

Genma laughed, but the smile didn’t disappear enough to put her completely at ease. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” then, he paused, reconsidered, and the smirk returned full force. “Not before the trial at least.”

Sakura groaned and let her forehead thump against Genma’s shoulder, exasperated.

“Geeeeen!” she whined, though she couldn’t keep the smile from her face. A few seconds passed in comfortable silence, then Sakura sobered and sighed. “I’ll probably request a long-term mission after the trials are done.”

“Kiri again? Like after the Chunin Exams?” Genma asked, and Sakura thought about it for a few seconds and brightened.

“Good idea! I haven’t seen Chojuro in _ages_ and I could always justify Kiri as ‘bolstering relations’ or something Ao-related. You’re a genius, Gen.”

 The brunet snorted and ruffled the hair he’d been gently combing back since they landed on the sofa. “Tell me something I don’t know, kid.” He sniped, and dodged the retaliatory smack. “And you going to Kiri would get the goddamn Terror out of the Village. So yeah, definitely good idea.”

Sakura snorted. “Yuki’s growing on you and you know it. It’s just his utter disregard for things like, y’know, _Village security,_ that you have an issue with.”

Genma glared at her, though there was no heat behind it. “He shouldn’t be able to just get in and out whenever he likes! It’s like he _disappears,_ and that’s coming from someone who can do the _Hiraishin._ ”

“And the fact that he’s never actually hurt me or anyone within the Village and has, more than once, _helped_ me, is, what, irrelevant?” Sakura demanded, amused more than accusatory, but she knew Genma still understood that she actually wanted a proper answer. 

“Of course it’s relevant! And it’s one of the reasons I still haven’t reported him, and, if you recall, actually considered _hugging him. Hugging,_ kid. That’s like, worse than hugging Hatake would’ve been.”

Sakura met Genma’s eyes and held his gaze. For a few seconds, they just looked at each other, both silent and considering, and then, as if at some unheard signal, they both burst out laughing, bodies shaking with untameable mirth and tears springing, unbidden, to eyes and some even escaping.

When they were done, Sakura smiled and curled into Genma even more securely, then closed her eyes.

“Any plans for what you’re going to do before the trials?” Genma asked eventually, wiping away the few errant tears from her cheeks with the pad of his thumb. Sakura smiled at the gesture even as she kept her eyes firmly shut and hummed.

“T’n’I. Bullyin’ ‘biki.” She mumbled around a jaw-cracking yawn, then huffed. “Di’n’t tell me shit. Bastard.”

She could feel Genma’s chest shake with hastily-smothered chuckles, and it was with a deep fondness and a smile on her face that Sakura fell asleep, relaxed for the first time since she woke up in the hospital.

* * *

“You’re kidding.”

Ibiki’s face, when he turned to look at her, was anything _but_ amused.

“No. No way. Since _before_ my Jounin Exams?! How could I not have heard of this?!”

“Ibiki was of the opinion that you wouldn’t want to collaborate with ‘Awaku-kun’, regardless of whatever ‘greater purpose’ we tried to sell you. Plus, y’know,” Anko shrugged, “there was always the ‘conspiring against a Village Elder’ that we didn’t particularly want to get you involved in.”

Sakura looked from Anko, to Ibiki, to the pale teen she’d come to know as ‘Sai’. “And you knew he’d cooperate because…?”

“You can’t erase emotion.” Ibiki told her gruffly. “You can suppress it. You can punish people for expressing it. But you can’t get rid of it. The trick with Sai here was figuring out what buttons to press and how to get around the seal.”

“That’s another bit I’ve got issue with – complete paralysis when you so much as mention the organisation or Shimura himself, but no failsafe for people just… writing it?”

“Root are trained to absolute, unquestionable obedience. Who could they write to? Who would listen to them? They were orphans, raised in Root bases, loyal only to Shimura, with no contact with the outside world.” Anko explained, a look of clear distaste on her face. “There was no need for a ‘failsafe’ because it was assumed that they would never ‘fail’.”

Sakura scowled, then turned to Sai. “And you’re okay with this? Being implicated in bringing down Elder Shimura?” She asked, highly sceptical.

“Yes.” Sai nodded, then added a flurry of signs of which Sakura caught ‘took away’, ‘brother’, and ‘made to kill’, but it was enough. She promptly backed away.

“No. Nuh-uh. That’s some Yondaime Mizukage-style practice. It would never float in Konoha.” She denied, horror and sympathy warring within her.

“Shimura is a throwback to the Warring States mentality.” Ibiki explained, staring at Sai with an unreadable expression on his face. “Making family kill each other as a test of obedience…is not beyond him. Question is, Haruno,” he turned to her, his eyes sharp, reading far more than she was comfortable with, “question is, knowing all this, are you in, or out?”

Sakura took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds. She looked at Sai, the complete lack of expression on his face, bar a small glint – determination or stubbornness, she couldn’t quite tell – then turned to Anko, alive, awake Anko, thought about the theories her senpai and Ibiki had thrown back and forth as to why and how she had been kept asleep for as long as she had been, then looked at Ibiki. Cool, unflappable Ibiki, who had broken an agent trained to be unbreakable then gone straight to the Hokage, spies and plants be damned. Who had spent the last year and a half working on a way of bringing down one of the key pieces on the chessboard and who looked _furious_ now, killing intent rolling off of him in vicious waves whenever he looked at Sai.

And she could be a part of this.

She exhaled.

“Yeah.” She nodded, “I’m in.”

* * *

Five days later, Sakura found herself being led deep down into the Hokage Tower, lower underground than even the Academy was, chakra seals on her wrist and an ANBU agent on either side. They reached a door, and as Sakura was led through it, she fought the instinct to freeze. She’d been warned about this. Dozens of shinobi sat in the galleries, Clan Heads, clan heirs, notable jounin, all the Rookie Eleven sensei, Elders bar Shimura. In the front row, surrounded by ANBU on both sides, sat Tsunade, and at the front of the room, in the Judge’s chair, was Jiraiya. Sasuke – chained and bruised and dressed in a nondescript navy kimono and still sans an eye – was on his left, and to Jiraiya’s right was an empty seat.

An empty seat Sakura was shepherded to.

She sat down, looking over the familiar and unfamiliar faces before her, doing her best not to fidget with her overlong sleeves and trying to be the picture of calm and confidence Anko had instructed her to embody.

 _She wasn’t the criminal here_ , Anko had said, and proceeded to take over Sakura’s preparation for the trial, _and we’ll make everyone remember that._

“Haruno Sakura.” Jiraiya’s booming voice broke her from her musings, and Sakura turned to regard the Sannin, noting that Sasuke was doing everything in his might to avoid looking at her. “Jounin, partner of Shiranui Genma. Senior Interrogator at T&I, Ambassador to Kiri and Sunagakure, ANBU assassin. Is that right?” Jiraiya asked, and Sakura nodded, smiling placidly.

“Yes, Jiraiya-sama.” She confirmed.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“I was informed I would be called in to testify in Uchiha Sasuke’s trial. I assume that is the case?” she intoned blandly, as Anko had instructed her to, noting that some of the shinobi gathered in the room were staring at her with wide eyes and an unreadable emotion on their faces.

“Indeed. And do you know why _I’m_ here?”

Sakura thought for a second, then quirked a wry smile. “I don’t know for sure, but I’d hypothesise that it’s because of your loyalty to Mount Myobuku takes precedence over your loyalty to Konoha, thus making you the perfect judge for this trial?” she guessed, and by Jiraiya’s face, she knew she’d played her cards right.

“Right, well.” The Sannin cleared his throat, turned to look at the Uchiha, then at the audience, and finally shared a meaningful glance with Tsunade. “Let’s begin!”

* * *

Kakashi did not miss the whispers that broke out when his old female student entered the room.

Homura, a still-recovering Tobitake, and Tenzo had been briefly called to testify beforehand and now sat on the front bench, yet Kakashi had no doubt that his student had caught and now held most of the room’s attention without even saying a word.

Sakura had opted out of her ninja gear, and instead looked like something Kakashi would have expected to see in a daimyo’s court. Dressed in a pale blue iromuji, half of her hair up in a simple knot, the rest flowing down her back in delicate waves, and an expression of idle curiosity on her face, the teen looked ephemeral. Yet despite the almost effortless, simple beauty, there was something _off,_ something dangerous emanating from the rosette. It was difficult, Kakashi realised, very difficult to imagine the girl in the stands ripping out someone’s eyeball in cold blood.

When Jiraiya read out just _who_ Sakura was, and just _what_ she did, and Kakashi heard the whole room collectively hold their breath, he realised that that had been the point all along.

Sakura’s appearance screamed innocence, weakness, yet her aura was fierce, dangerous and not to be underestimated.

Kakashi had learnt that over the past three years, and thus knew about the walking paradox that was his student even before Sakura had walked in.

Within the first two minutes, the rest of the shinobi gathered in the room learned that too.

* * *

“Could you describe what happened when you reached Orochimaru’s base?” Jiraiya-sama asked, and Ino watched her old friend fold her hands over her lap and deliver a report so flat and factual one would’ve thought she was talking about the weather.

She had distantly registered Sakura change since graduation, but she’d thought she’d seen the last of the changes at the Rookie 9 dinner, back when the rosette was taking the Jounin Exams. Now, looking at the young woman – because she could no longer be called a _girl_ , not _really_ – at the front of the room, Ino realised she couldn’t have been more wrong.

From the way she was dressed to the way she carried herself, Sakura’s entire being screamed ‘power’, and it hadn’t escaped Ino’s notice that Sasuke adamantly refused to meet her gaze or even _look_ in his old teammate’s direction since she’d entered the room.

“Could you explain why you sent your team captain away before you confronted the Uchiha?”

Ino tuned back into what was happening just as Sakura tilted her head, the movement oddly languid, as if she had all the time and all the answers in the world, and answered.

“I didn’t want them to get in the way.” She said simply.

The effect of the statement was tremendous, and Ino saw something flash in Jiraiya-sama’s eyes, saw the surreptitious glance he exchanged with the Godaime, saw the almost… _apprehension_? when he turned to look at Sakura.

“Ah, sorry, that came out wrong.” Sakura apologised, looking like her old self for the first time since she entered the makeshift courtroom when she smiled sheepishly. Then she straightened and her expression grew serious. “I have already said that I had my own mission that I was tasked with fulfilling. I sent my teammates away because their goals–well. They didn’t _clash_ with mine, so much as our focus wasn’t the same. Yamato-san, due to his unique abilities, was charged with containment of the Nine-Tails, should the jinchuuriki seal weaken or begin to unravel. He didn’t know Sasuke. Agent Sai was ordered to assassinate Uchiha Sasuke, but upon failing, switched to containing him and bringing him back to the Village for Naruto’s sake. He didn’t know Sasuke either. And Uzumaki Naruto was blinded by his nostalgia and the ideal of his old teammate he seemed to have in mind and would therefore hesitate. While he knew Sasuke, he would have refused to approach him as an enemy. As you can see, none of them were suited for the task of bringing Uchiha Sasuke back home to face trial.”

“And you were?”

At that, Sakura laughed, short and derisive. “I’m an assassin, and a genjutsu mistress, Jiraiya-sama. With all due respect, hiding in wait, cataloguing and waiting for the opportune moment to strike and deliver the most damage is in the job description.”

There was a moment of silence as Jiraiya regarded the rosette, an unreadable expression on his face, then he nodded and moved on.

“And would you say that gouging out the Sharingan was within your mission parameters?” Jiraiya asked at last, and the room grew quiet enough Ino could’ve heard a pin drop from the other side, especially when Jiraiya added, “A Sharingan which still haven’t been recovered, may I add.”

Sakura froze for a second, then shook her head. “Perhaps not. But if you don’t mind, I’d recommend you go to Yamanaka Inoichi if you want a psychological profile and justifications.” Then, she smiled guilelessly. “And I have the eye on my person. I haven’t been asked for it since I woke up, is all.”

There was a collective gasp as Sakura’s words registered, and Jiraiya looked on the verge of face-palming. “Then yes, for the record I would like to see the Sharingan in your possession.”

Sakura nodded, then slowly raised her hand to her mouth, maintaining eye-contact with what Ino realised were Tsunade-sama’s ANBU guards, and bit her thumb, then swiped the bloodied finger on her forearm. A frown of concentration later, the rosette produced a jar with–!

Ino gagged, and heard a couple of shinobi around her do the same.

 _Yup, that’s an eye._ She thought absently, then passed out.

* * *

Shikamaru knew, the moment Sakura resurfaced from T&I with a grim look of determination on her face that he hadn’t seen since Ao’s case, that the Uchiha trial would not be easy.

Sitting in the court room, his dad by his side, and all the other Clan Heads and heirs in their row just hammered that point home.

Seeing the façade Sakura was limiting herself to, seeing how much it was hurting her to remain nonchalant and indifferent was starting to grate at him. He didn’t know _who_ had advised the rosette to take this course of action, but while he couldn’t dispute the effect it had on the audience, he couldn’t help but wonder whether putting Sakura through the act was worth it.

Everything from the way she was dressed – (and _wow_ hadn’t that been a mindfuck and a half, not seeing the turtleneck and the armour and the ponytail and the practicality but a _kimono-!_ ) – to the way she was speaking and holding herself, was an act meant to do three things at once:

Propagate, address, and destroy any myths and stereotypes the audience could or would have about kunoichi.

Show them a pretty, delicate, indifferent young woman and tell them that she’s a murderer-for-hire for their military dictator, that she works in the least desirable division of their ninja forces, that she is an equal partner of a man who’d become a tokubetsu jounin before she was even born.

Shikamaru could see what they were going for.

Everyone in the room was now firmly on the rosette’s side, even if some had been apprehensive before. This didn’t change when she produced a jar with saline and an _eyeball_ trapped within, lightly tapped it almost as if to go ‘here you are’, and placed it on the flat desk part of the pew she was sitting at.

And then, there was a blur, a flash of movement, a whistle of projectile weapons flying through the air aimed at the rosette, making her leap up and away and then a shape materialised in front of her desk, hand reaching for the jar but somehow unable to pick it up, jerking back as if _stuck,_ and then shadows wrapped around the figure, tight and unforgiving and restraining, and Shikamaru could see his dad in his peripheral vision, and he looked _pissed._

Tsunade’s ANBU guards were tense and armed, the various Clan Heads up and alarmed, Jiraiya himself leaping over the judge’s bench to get into the man’s space, a move Shikamaru had seen Ibiki pull to a far greater effect but.

But.

Shikamaru never took his eyes off Sakura.

He watched as she stood and dropped down from the seat she’d leapt on, brushing some invisible lint from her shoulder, the very picture of unaffected even as their gazes met and he saw just how serious she was.

And because Shikamaru didn’t look away, he didn’t miss the second blur, this one sending a barrage of shuriken at the rosette which were all deflected by senbon she’d somehow produced from thin air, landing in the same place and reaching for the jar, only for Sakura to snatch it back with chakra threads and Shikamaru to pierce the man like a pincushion with his _Kagenui._

There was a moment of silence and stillness where everyone turned to regard the scene, and even the ANBU guards paused while whisking away the first attacker.

Sakura stood, hair loose and swaying in a non-existent breeze, her arm outstretched and chakra threads keeping the jar with the Uchiha’s eye suspended in mid-air a good ten metres from her, the chakra-suppressing seal starkly visible against her pale skin. Her attacker frozen mid-step, suspended in an upright position only thanks to the two dozen separate threads of shadow piercing him, the steady _drip drip drip_ of blood the only sound in the room, and Shikamaru, standing beside his father, the same position, not relaxing until the nin’s last breath stuttered in his chest and died.

Shikamaru cut the chakra supply and watched the man drop to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. “Sorry,” he said, not feeling very sorry at all, “haven’t quite got the hang of that technique yet. My bad.”

And he heard Sakura snort, unapologetic and knowing, because he’d mastered that technique _with her there,_ before he even set out to avenge Asuma. But a tiny white lie never seriously hurt anyone.

“Thanks, Shika, Shikaku-san.” Sakura nodded, a smile on her face, then reeled the jar that started all this towards her and peeled what turned out to be a seal-tag from the bottom. Then, she calmly walked towards Tsunade and placed it on the desk in front of her. “And thanks for the replacement, Tsunade-sama.”

“Glad to know your seal held.” The Hokage replied, equally vaguely, and lobbed the jar over her shoulder to Shizune who sat a few rows up.

And as Shikamaru watched the Godaime get up and explain that she’d had the real eye in her possession for over a week, that this was all part of an elaborate plan to gather more evidence against Elder Shimura and that Sakura had agreed to put her personal wellbeing at stake to provide said evidence, Shikamaru saw the public opinion on Sakura set itself in stone.

“Just one thing before we go back to the trial,” Tsunade said, and everyone stilled, “you’re wearing chakra-suppressants and I _know_ my ANBU aren’t incompetent. You shouldn’t be able to manipulate chakra.”

And Sakura smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck, inadvertently flashing even more of the seal. “Ah, yeah, about that… this seal is a bit rudimental, Tsunade-sama, sorry.” Sakura pointed out, then shrank back when Tsunade’s face spelled ‘explain now’. “It, ah, only blocks two of the three chakra pathways we have running through each limb. If you can direct your chakra to the one that isn’t being blocked, it’s, um, not that hard to, ah…bypass them?” she trailed off the further along in her explanation she got, because Tsunade’s face had gone straight from intrigued, to insulted, then amused, disbelieving, and finally settled on exasperated.

“Shiranui!” she barked, and Genma perked to attention from where he’d been attempting to smother his laughter in Aoba’s shoulder, standing up. “As our resident seal master, consider yourself commissioned to draft up a replacement chakra-suppressing seal that your goddamn kid _can’t_ get through!”

Genma blinked, stifled a snort, and saluted. “Yes, Ma’am!” and sat down.

Then, Jiraiya took back the reigns of the process, and the real hearing began.

* * *

Through a democratic vote, Sasuke was sentenced to being stripped of his ninja rank, having his chakra permanently suppressed and his remaining Sharingan sealed away. He’d be incarcerated for an initial period of one year, with the potential to get out on good behaviour after his year was up.

The remnant of the Uchiha district which had been uninhabited since the massacre almost a decade back was going to be assimilated back into the Village and rehabilitated into affordable housing for orphaned shinobi trainees and civilians.

Sakura and Genma had been conscripted into designing the various seals needed for the Uchiha and the new district, with Jiraiya occasionally popping in with advice or to drink and get nostalgic with Genma. With the Uchiha hearing over, and Elder Shimura’s scheduled for the next week, everyone found themselves in a curious limbo of inactivity.

It was on one such afternoon that Shikamaru was laying on the carpet in Sakura and Genma’s living room, Sakura draped over him, scribbling furiously at something by his elbow, her tongue poking out in concentration and her warmth and Genma and Jiraiya’s quiet voices lulling Shikamaru slowly to sleep.

It was in that moment between the cognizance of wakefulness and the oblivion of sleep that Shikamaru entertained the thought that he wouldn’t mind having more of this.

Wouldn’t mind having this for the rest of his life, in fact.


	25. Trial: II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right! here we are after almost, uh, two months...again...oops...  
> but!   
> 12k of words. like, that's some words. a lotta shit happens in this chapter, yet, at the same time, it feels like a filler. does it feel like a filler to you? tell me later pls~   
> i've officially hit exam season, (2 down, five motherfuckers still to go!) but this has been languishing on my desktop for over a month so i finally churned it out, but the point is, i won't even have the mental faculties to /write/ much less publish anything for at least another three weeks, so the next update might take just as long to come out... oops x2
> 
> also!!
> 
> IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!!!
> 
> in this chapter, this story OFFICIALLY BECOMES AN AU (!!!)  
> i've been toying with canon in the last 24 chapters, playing close to it then straying away again, but in this chap, i officially divorce Kishi. my kingdom now.   
> why? three reasons, and honestly, i am open to Discourse if you disagree, but this is my opinion:  
> 1\. THIS AUTHOR THINKS THE KAGUYA ARC WAS A PIECE OF SHIT (like literally, im not even going to be touching that with a ten foot pole. rabbit goddess whomst? i dont know her)  
> 2\. THIS AUTHOR THINKS DANZO WAS A PIECE OF SHIT (honestly, sweaty, you tried, but like...y)  
> 3\. THIS AUTHOR HAS GONE TOO DEEP DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE OF SELF-INDULGENT WORLDBUILDING AND GOTTEN NOSTALGIC FOR THE POTENTIAL THAT NARUTO AS THE STORYLINE HAD AND WILL NOW ATTEMPT TO COMFORT THEMSELVES BY STICKING A BIG FAT MIDDLE FINGER UP AT CANON. (like i said. my. kingdom. now.)
> 
> if you - justifiably - have issue with it, thank you for supporting this story thus far <33 u da real MVPs
> 
> (shoutout to anyone who can guess what the first scene is all about~)

An inkstone, a set of brushes, and a kunai glinted in the late afternoon sun, an odd sense of finality radiating off of them.

“You sure about this, senpai?”

“Yeah, kid. I trust you.”

A pause, and a deep, shuddering sigh.

“Kneel in the circle then, please.”

 “Ah!” a flinch. “Sorry, sorry, the ink is fucking cold though.”

A laugh, only a tiny bit hysterical.

“Sorry, senpai. My bad.”

Silence; broken only by the soothing sound of brush against skin and the steady drip of ink.

“Done.” A breath. “This may hurt.”

A snort.

“I’d be worried if it didn’t.”

A burst of blinding blue light, a surge of energy, and a stifled scream.

“Did-!” gasping, desperate breaths. “Did it w-work?”

A thud of knees against panelled wood and exhausted pants.

“Can you feel it?”

A pause. Prolonged, and ringing with disbelief.

Then, slowly, giddy, euphoric happiness.

“No…” a sob. “No, I can’t! Kid, I-!”

Happy tears and rib-crushing hugs and small, grateful smiles.

* * *

Itachi held his arm out for Yoko to land on, and listened as the crow gave an account of what was happening in his old Village.

The news that his brother had betrayed the Leaf to join Orochimaru a few years back had shaken him, but it was nothing he couldn’t adjust to. The thought of the Snake Sannin’s influence corrupting Sasuke even further was vile, but perhaps the man could give Sasuke the power he needed to kill Itachi a little sooner. So while not happy about the situation ( _SarutobifailedhewasmeanttokeepSasuke_ safe _!_ ) he’d factored it into his plans and moved on.

Finding out that his brother had been captured and brought back to the Village had not been quite as easy to get over.

Sasuke in the Village meant that Sasuke couldn’t kill him. And that meant that Itachi’s main, failsafe plan for peace and penance had been sabotaged. He could always kill himself – and it had been a thought he’d entertained more than once – but the dishonour and cowardice of the action disgusted him. No, having Sasuke kill him, take his eyes, fulfil his self-proclaimed goal as their Clan’s avenger, all the while absolving Itachi of his guilt, of his crime, his betrayal, of the blood of their family on his hands – that was a much more attractive end.

But now, now the Godaime had thrown a wrench in that plan.

And with the report Yoko had just delivered…

Itachi scowled.

With Sasuke incarcerated, sealed, and stripped off his chakra, his Sharingan, and his ninja rank, Itachi’s plan of death-by-fratricide was looking ever more unlikely.

But.

Itachi, same as every ninja worth their salt, was nothing if not opportunistic.

And yes, Sasuke’s sentence was a blow and more than a mild inconvenience, but Shimura’s trial falling into his lap like that? What better chance would he have to get revenge on the man responsible for his predicament and expose ROOT, the corruption within the Village, _and_ warn Sasuke about Madara than this one?

Itachi flexed his chakra and Yoko promptly dismissed herself, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

This would directly violate the terms he’d agreed upon with Jiraiya, but he found that he didn’t care. He had the blood of his family on his hands, the traumatisation of his brother on his conscience, and the instability and PTSD that came from playing the role of the ruthless, emotionless murderer for the last decade on his mental state. Positive emotions, affection, rational thought – he hardly remembered what they felt like. He’d been operating on autopilot from the moment his body had begun to deteriorate; all that mattered was the Plan, his grand finale. And now, years of careful planning had been laid to waste. Itachi made an executive decision, and examined his internal reaction to said decision.

There was no guilt to be found.

Mind made up, he shook off his Akatsuki cloak, set it alight with an effortless _katon,_ and turned to the forest. 

It was time to pay Konohagakure a visit.

* * *

Shikaku put his signature on the last document from his seemingly never-ending pile and finally raised his head to look at his son. Shikamaru was lounging on the sofa, but unlike what Shikaku would’ve once expected, there was a book spread out before him, and he was frowning.

(He tried not to think too hard about the last time he saw Shikamaru actually resting _properly_ -!)

But Inoichi had told – well, flat out _ordered_ – him to get his head out of his ass and talk to his son, and this was as good an opportunity as he was going to get.

“Shikamaru,” he called quietly, getting a hum from his son as a response. With the confirmation that the teen was listening, the next part came louder, “when are we going to talk about what happened last week?”

Such a simple question, yet so loaded at the same time. Still, eyes trained on Shikamaru, Shikaku struggled to note any sort of reaction beyond a slight tightening of his shoulders. (Shikamaru still wasn’t looking at him.)

“That depends.” The boy said easily, just as seemingly casual as his father. “What happened last week?”

Shikaku felt the first stirrings of irritation.

(He knew Shikamaru knew, so why-?!)

“Don't insult our Clan by playing dumb, son.” He chastised, tone sharper than he’d intended, but at least it got a reaction.

Shikamaru sighed and closed his book, then finally sat up to regard Shikaku with a disinterested expression. “I'm not.” He said, blunt as can be. “But I can't read your mind, dad. That's Ino's Clan.” Before Shikaku could reprimand him for the sass, he continued, “Just say what's on your mind and we can both move on with our lives.”

 _(Fine_. If Shikamaru didn’t want to approach this diplomatically, then Shikaku wouldn’t.)

“You killed a man in a room full of jounin and Clan Heads.” He announced in that same Nara blandness his son had used on him.

The effect wasn’t the one he had expected. “I did.” Shikamaru hummed, stretching until his back popped with an audible _crack._ “He was going to kill my partner.”

 _(Partner._ Not ‘friend’ or ‘teammate’ but _partner._ Still-!)

“And you couldn't have restrained him?” Shikaku asked, trying to get to the bottom of his son’s thought process. “He was still a Konoha shinobi. And your little apology may have placated the Sannin, but I _know_ you mastered _Kagenui_ two years ago.” Normally, Shikaku wouldn’t be quite so blunt, quite so obvious in his probing, but a Nara trying to outmanoeuvre a Nara never ended well and tended to last for far too long.

“No.” Shikamaru corrected sharply. “ _Sakura_ is a Konoha shinobi. That man came at her with the intent to kill, acting on the orders of a traitor. I don't see why I should've shown any more mercy or consideration than a quick death.”

And there lay the problem. The easy, blunt admission to a complete lack of remorse, and Shikaku felt uneasy.

“Did you think you were the only one watching her?” he probed, needing to understand his son’s reasoning, regardless how bleak and clear it was already looking. Then, he found a nerve and tested it. “Or did you not trust your fellow shinobi, most of whom outranked you, to protect your friend?

The last question drew a reaction. Shikamaru’s jaw tightened, and his eyes grew cold.

“With the whispers flying around?” he asked bitterly, “With the Uzumaki bitching about what she did to the Uchiha for all and sundry? The bullshit comparison to Orochimaru Jiraiya's throwing around? Did I trust the people in the courtroom – people, of whom only about a third had worked with her and knew the rumours to be worth absolute jackshit – while the rest was composed of our old classmates or stuck up Clan Heads and Elders, shinobi who were all old enough to trust Jiraiya and his judgement and who fear Orochimaru, and, by extension, anybody associated with him – did I trust _them_ to have my partner's back? You're damn right I didn't.” Shikamaru snapped, pausing to get his breath back. “But you're still stalling, dad. Just _ask_.”

And–

“What _happened_ to you?”

 Shikaku wanted to take the words back as soon as they escaped, but it was too late.

Instead, he tried to ignore the non-expression on Shikamaru’s face and explain himself.

“You were never interested in being heir.” He said, uncharacteristically stumbling over his words, even if it was only slightly. The point was that they both knew what he was saying to be true. “I knew you thought it was all a drag, I knew you would've rather your cousin took over the Clan than you. But then, you threw our Clan name around in the case over the stolen Byakugan. I was glad – you’d started to show an interest in history and in politics a little before that, and I thought _finally_ , you’d actively recognised your place and power as heir.” Shikaku paused, trying to gauge the effect his words were having, but Shikamaru’s face was as expressive as stone.

“But _then_ , you started taking out high-rank documents from the archives, disappearing for days at a time, taking missions where reports say you chose to engage and eliminate targets rather than retreat, even when the mission was already over. Then Asuma–” a reaction, at last, a flinch and a flicker of Killing Intent. _Good_. “I know how much that man meant to you, Shikamaru.” He reassured, “I know you probably trusted him more than you do me. But I had to find out from _Chouji_ that he’d been KIA, because you _disappeared_. And then you came back a week later, not a hint of grief around you, and threw yourself into training, and next I hear, you've singlehandedly killed an S-Rank shinobi who’d gotten into Akatsuki for being _impossible to kill_.”

Shikamaru’s face had smoothed over once again, but the dangerous roiling of his chakra didn’t subside. “What are you getting at?” he asked quietly, his voice deceptively even and controlled even when his chakra _screamed_ otherwise.

Shikaku sighed, all the fight suddenly gone out of him.

“I just want to know how it's possible for me to live under the same roof as my son but not know who he is.” He said at last, and waited.

Then, Shikamaru snorted.

The snort turned into chuckles, and the chuckles into laughter, but it wasn’t– it wasn’t comforting. Shikamaru’s laughter was snide, cutting, mocking, and Shikaku could do little but wait for him to finish.

“Man, I can’t believe I finally understand what Sakura means when she talks about Hatake.” He sighed, and Shikaku carefully didn’t stiffen. Because now, Shikamaru wasn’t hiding his expression anymore, and the look in his eyes was amused, patronising and…heartbroken.

“You don’t know who I am because, since I graduated, you’ve never taken the time to _get to know me._ ” Shikamaru said, and Shikaku’s heart _throbbed._ “You saw me after the failed retrieval mission, and I _know_ what you thought. For all that you say I didn’t _want_ to be heir, you never believed I _could_ be heir. So you saw me in the hospital, crying because my best friend was _dying,_ and for you, it was a confirmation that you were right. Do you know how much happened since then?” the question was clearly rhetorical, because as soon as Shikaku opened his mouth, Shikamaru barrelled on. “I’m easily jounin level now. We both know that. Been eligible for the promotion since that first ambassadorial mission to Suna.” Suddenly, the setting sun illuminated the living room and Shikaku realised that the front wall of the house, directly behind Shikamaru, wasn’t just _shadowed_. It was far too dark; what he was looking at was a writhing _mass_ of shadows, like sentient ivy, the darkness _slithering_ as if alive. This was the result of his son’s restless chakra, Shikaku realised; only he hadn’t even noticed the boy make any handseals. This was just…an instinctive response.

He knew Shikamaru had been expanding their family’s techniques, forgoing the old ways and the typical Nara laziness in favour of developing something that was his own, but he hadn’t realised that what had been mere ability to control shadows had turned into a _mastery._

But Shikamaru wasn’t done.

“Everyone sees what they want to see. You still see me the same as you saw me in that hospital waiting room. The majority of the Village saw me how they see our whole clan – lazy, unmotivated, my intelligence my only saving grace. And yeah, maybe fresh out of the Academy it was true, and at that point, I was okay with that. But then, after the Invasion, after Kiri, I wasn’t. So I worked. I worked with the treaties, with the foreign ambassadors, with restructuring the Academy programme, with the immigrant population, with the _civilians, ‘_ cause for God’s sake, we may be the ‘nice’ Village to the other shinobi nations, but we still treat our civilians like _shit._ Do you know what the greatest compliment I received from a civilian was? ‘You’re not like the rest of your family’.” Shikaku barely reigned in the flinch. “I realised what I could do after Ao’s trial, and as much as a pain in the ass as that was at the time, I’m still grateful. Because I made something of myself that’s separate from our name, from our Clan. Did you know the civilians call me ‘Shikamaru-san’? Not ‘Nara-san’ – they said they don’t feel like that’s fair on me, since none of the rest of our Clan gives a flying _fuck_ about them despite the fact that we’ve got the best knowledge and source of homeopathic medicine in the entire Land of Fire! So yeah, you don’t recognise me. That’s fair. It’s been almost _four years_ since you last really _looked_ at me, so I’m not surprised. Instead, let me introduce myself.”

Shikaku paused, thrown by the last sentence, but his son wasn’t joking. Shikamaru inclined his head, the bow more mocking than respectful – and Shikaku had a feeling that that had been the intention from the start – before quirking a sardonic smile.

“I’m Shikamaru.” _No surname-!_ “I’m seventeen. I’m a tokubetsu jounin.” _when did that happen-?! He was the Jounin Commander for god’s sake, how did he not-!?_ “I’m an ambassador to Kiri and Suna and the Head of the Education Committee in charge of restructuring the Academy curriculum.” _What?_ “I’m also a consultant for the Konohagakure Intelligence Division. I enjoy cloud watching and spending time with my friends. I dislike having to get up before dawn and people refusing to look past my family name when judging my capability. My dream is to protect my friends and provide a safe future for the Kings of Konohagakure.” The sardonic smile grew. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The dread and disbelief that had been coiling in Shikaku’s gut slowly turned into red-hot fury. “Well,” he replied at length, his voice carefully measured and deceptively kind, “if our family name displeases you so, then perhaps you don’t deserve it, hm?”

At Shikamaru’s shocked expression, Shikaku realised he finally had the upper hand in this exchange. There was confusion writ in every line of his son’s face, a fair bit of hurt too, but Shikaku refused to feel guilty, to take back his words. Then, Shikamaru’s face twisted into a scowl, but his eyes were glistening with tears he refused to shed.

“Great idea, dad.” He snapped, voice cracking on the last word, before he shrugged off his vest and almost _ripped_ off the Nara Clan jacket that he had under it, throwing it at Shikaku’s feet. He quickly put his flak jacket back on and reached for his ears, yanking out the silver studs that marked him as a Nara chunin, throwing the delicate metal on the floor too. “Best thing you’ve said since this whole bullshit situation started. _Clearly_ you deserve that genius status everybody throws at you.”

And then, with a final, tearful glare, Shikamaru disappeared in a swirl of leaves, but not before Shikaku heard the shattered sob that escaped him.

* * *

Tsunade had called Naruto into her office. She'd been putting it off, charmed by the smiles and the sunshine and the resemblance to Nawaki, but Jiraiya's account of what happened, the comparison he'd drawn, and the angry mutters among some of her shinobi and whispers of favoritism had swayed her hand.

However she wanted to look at it, the fact of the matter remained that Naruto had attacked a Konohagakure jounin with the intent to kill.

She could explain the Kiri-nin – the goddamn Terror wasn't supposed to even be there, but the fact that the blond had not only allowed the fox chakra to manifest, but would've also seriously injured one of her best assassins if not for the girl's canniness and enviable control of her own body, that, well. If he'd been any higher than genin, that would've seen him demoted.

The door to her office suddenly swung open, barely saved from hitting the wall by the blond's reflexes. At her side, she heard Jiraiya sigh.

"Baa-chan!" Naruto grinned with all the composure of an overenthusiastic puppy. Then, finally reading the seriousness of the room, his smile dimmed. "Baa-chan? Is something wrong?"

Tsunade stifled a sigh of her own. "Sit down, Naruto."

There was tension in his frame now, unease, and she wondered whether Sarutobi had ever bothered to explain to the kid that actions had consequences.

She doubted it.

"I received reports that you assaulted a jounin of our Village, and an allied foreign-nin. Do you have anything to say to that?" she asked at last, and watched Naruto splutter.

"It wasn't assault! I didn't even hit her once!" he exclaimed, waving his arms to somehow hammer the point home, but Tsunade's patience was fraying - the cluelessness was verging further and further into 'irritating' instead of 'endearing'.

"And how much of that," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm, even, no matter how much she wanted to yell and shake the boy until he understood, "was due to your restraint, and how much was thanks to Haruno's jounin reflexes?"

"Question is," Jiraiya took over when Naruto floundered, and Tsunade took a deep breath to steady herself, "would you have hit her if she hadn't been able to dodge?"

"No!" Naruto snapped, thoughtless and automatic and _wow_ Tsunade could feel her eyebrow soar, apparently high enough that the blond paused. "I mean, then, in that field, probably yes. But I was just so _angry_ , Baa-chan, and she was laughing and acting as if she hadn't just sentenced Sasuke to death-!"

"Sakura is a jounin who was acting on the orders of her Kage. _Me_. Do you know who has the power to sentence people to death? Also me. Did I sentence the Uchiha to death? No. Try again, and _think_ this time, or I'm going to lose my temper."

She saw Naruto gulp, eyes flitting over to Jiraiya, but for all his general idiocy and idealism, her old teammate had a fearsome poker face when he bothered to use it.

"It's... since I got back, she's been...distant. To me, to Kakashi-sensei, even the rest of the Rookie Nine! Then she beat Kakashi-sensei, said we'd set her back... and then she was just there at Gaara's retrieval, took down that blond guy, Gaara _hugged her_ , Baa-chan! And then with Sasuke, she just-! I didn't see the whole battle cause creepy snake dude was there, but I couldn't land a single hit on Sasuke but Sakura just _broke him_. And then she disappeared and I found out on the way back to the Village what she did to him, and nobody here seemed alarmed or anything, and then, when I asked her why she did what she did, she said that Sasuke was a _traitor_ and that she was following orders! It's just... that wasn't the Sakura I know. And I was angry because... because _I_ was meant to bring Sasuke back and because... because I _miss them_."

Tsunade was seized by two conflicting urges: to hug, and to throttle.

"Uchiha Sasuke _is_ a traitor." she pronounced solemnly, her mind whirring. "And she _was_ following orders. And if you still want to be Hokage someday, you need to stop running around and being so actively supportive of traitors and scornful of loyal shinobi, because if you keep at it, your people will not be able to trust whether you'll be able to put the Village's needs and interests above your own. You don't become known and respected by becoming Hokage. You become Hokage _because_ you're known and respected. At the moment, you are neither. What you have going for you is sheer power, but sheer power isn’t even considered as a quality a good leader should have unless the Village is at _war_."

Naruto gaped, and Tsunade sighed. "What you need to understand is that your genin days are a thing of the past, Naruto. The Uchiha is a traitor to the Village and most likely won't be reinstated as a shinobi for at least a decade, even with the Elders twisting my arms. Hatake has been fielding A and S-Rank missions for the last three years – he’s one of my best shinobi and he can't be spared so you can have a trip down memory lane. And Haruno is simply _out of your league_ , not just skill-wise, but developmentally. She's a reliable jounin, has the political experience of a wartime diplomat, and her mission count is firmly in the triple digits, while I could count her failed missions on the fingers of one hand. The point is, Naruto, that even if I _could_ spare her from the field – which I can't, because her and Shiranui are almost as notorious for coming back from suicide-missions as your sensei, and Konoha _needs_ those – I _wouldn't_. She's the most self-made out of your generation, maybe bar the kunoichi on Gai's team, and I would never try to take her accomplishments away from her. And the truth of the matter is, you _would_ slow her down."

She could see Naruto's wide eyes go glassy, but she was past caring – the boy needed a reality-check or he would kill himself chasing an unattainable dream and take others with him while he was at it.

"You want to work with your old teammates? You want to be Hokage? Then make yourself useful, find a team for the next Chunin Exams, get your promotion, increase your mission count, find people to vouch for you and recommend you and _grow up_ , before you get yourself, or, god forbid, _someone else_ , killed." She looked into those blue, blue eyes, took in the tears that were flowing freely now, the wobbly lip and the runny nose. “And if I hear anything about you attacking your fellow ninja outside of friendly spars, the next time you’re summoned here, I’ll be asking for your hitai-ate.” She watched as the seriousness of the threat sunk in, and turned back to her paperwork. “Dismissed.”

She pretended not to hear the door slam.

* * *

Shikamaru knocked softly on a familiar door, mindful of the late hour but also aware that he couldn’t really hope to not wake anyone with the sound in a shinobi household, and waited. The red oak swung open, revealing the familiar face of his best friend, in a familiar pair of dango pyjamas and a familiar bag of potato chips in his hands, the entire picture bringing a hint of a smile on the Nara’s face for the first time in hours.

“Shikamaru!” Chouji greeted, surprised but clearly pleased as he stepped aside to let him in, for once actually swallowing before speaking. “Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, come on up!” and he turned, leading the way to his bedroom even though Shikamaru reckoned he could find his way to the room drugged and blindfolded, he’d been there so many times.

It wasn’t until he was sitting on a beanbag that had become _his_ beanbag almost a decade ago, Chouji perched cheerfully on his bed, that the weight of what happened a few hours previous fully sunk in.

“So, what’s up? Last I heard you were busy revolutionising the Academy via guerrilla tactics against the Elders.” And normally, Shikamaru would’ve snorted, both for the description and the fact that despite not having properly seen each other for _weeks,_ Chouji could still be relied upon to make a point to remain informed about his friends’ whereabouts. His lack of response was apparently more damning than anything he could’ve said, because Chouji immediately grew serious, his bag of snacks suddenly gone as if it was never there in the first place. “Shikamaru?” he asked worriedly, leaning forward from where he sat opposite the Nara on the bed. “Everything alright?”

And Shikamaru sighed, and if the exhale shuddered a little more than usual, he wasn’t to blame. “I had a fight.” He said at last, and Chouji’s eyes widened slightly, before he flashed a small smile.

“Well, then I can only hope the other guy looks twice as bad as you.” He joked, and Shikamaru snorted, though it was humourless.

“I wish.” He mumbled, but Chouji still heard him and the smile vanished.

“Shikamaru,” he said, and waited until the Nara looked at him, “who did you fight with?”

And Shikamaru, because he was _weak_ when it came to his best friend, crumbled. “My dad.” He admitted, and this time, even he couldn’t deny the way his voice broke.

Suddenly, he was being yanked forward, off the beanbag and onto the bed, and crushed under 190 pounds of warm teenager. “Oof, Chouji, what-?!”

“You’ve been an honorary Akimichi since I first brought you home, though you’ll definitely gain more weight if you move in. Wave goodbye to that tiny waist that makes even Ino jealous and say hello to some good fuckin’ _food_!” his friend bellowed right into Shikamaru’s ear, and the Nara was torn between laughter and exasperation.

“I’m not- moving in-” he wheezed, coughing and spitting when he got Chouji’s wild mane in his mouth for his efforts, “just got kicked out, I’ll find a place, get a mission-!”

“If you think,” Chouji cut him off, shifting so he pressed down harder on Shikamaru’s solar plexus and grinning when his friend wheezed, “that I’m letting you out of this bed without us both getting a good night’s sleep, then you’re an idiot. And if you think that my mom will _let_ you leave after she finds out what happened, then I’m rescinding your ‘best friend’ status, because you clearly don’t know my family at _all_.” He told Shikamaru cheerfully, somehow flipping the Nara over and ridding him off his flak jacket, then helping him kick off his sandals. “There. Now, I don’t know how it was at yours, but in this house, when it’s 1am we _sleep_. So shut up, and do what you’re best at, Shikamaru.”

Grumbling, Shikamaru shuffled and settled, letting the warmth comfort instead of smother.

A few seconds passed, then –

“I need to piss.” He said frankly, half because it was true and half just to see what Chouji would do.

“Then piss. See if I care. That’s _your_ side of the bed.” Chouji replied, flashing Shikamaru and unholy grin. “ _And_ , Ino would never let you live it down.”

Shikamaru struggled for a few seconds, fighting laughter and indignation at once, then choked out, “You’re a _menace_ , Akimichi Chouji.”

“Mmhm, you’re welcome.”

Sighing, the Nara settled, a smile on his face. Then–

“Thanks, Chouji. I know I don’t say it enough, but thank you, genuinely.”

“You’re _welcome_ , Shikamaru, now seriously shut up and sleep or I’m going to gag you.”

Shikamaru snorted, then quietened, waiting until Chouji’s scowl smoothed out and he looked on the brink of sleep before–

“Consent is sexy, Chouji.”

“For _fuck’s_ sake, Shikamaru, I swear to _god_ -!”

The rest of the sentence was swallowed by curses and breathless laughter.

* * *

Sakura smiled as she walked through the door, humming happily as the sunlight hit her face. She spread her arms and gratefully soaked up the surprisingly warm late September afternoon after a long day in the T&I office – the downside of building an ironclad case against Shimura was spending _hours_ down in the lowest levels, and if she was any more vain, she would have started whining about her skin becoming sallow and translucent after the first two days.

As it was, with less than three days till the trial, all that was left were the finishing touches that Ibiki had agreed she didn’t need to be present for, and they would have Shimura once and for all.

(Sakura didn’t think she’d ever seen Ibiki happier. The man looked like he was about to break out into song as she was leaving, which was…disturbing to say the least.)

Unbuttoning the top of her grey T&I overalls, she shrugged out of the sleeves and let the fabric drape around her waist, leaving her in the overalls trousers and her ANBU vest, all with the intention of soaking up as much warmth and sunlight as she could. She headed home, deciding to forgo the front door as she neared, and instead walked round to the back, hopping the fence and falling onto one of the deckchairs she’d badgered Genma into buying on one of their shopping trips, sighing as she felt her back crack in three places.

With the trial of a known traitor and a once-renowned Village Elder, all non-essential missions were postponed and higher-ranking shinobi kept within the Village to attend the trials, which meant that, if she ignored the work she was doing with T&I, Sakura had essentially been granted over two weeks of vacation.

“Long day?” Genma asked as he fell onto the deckchair besides hers, a glass with a fruity concoction of some sort in one hand and a sudoku in the other.

“The longest.” Sakura agreed, nodding mock-solemnly and drawing a snort from the brunet. “But we’ve got a pretty solid case against the old coot, and Ibiki-senpai is positively glowing with schadenfreude, so there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.” She divulged, leaning over to steal a sip of Genma’s mystery drink and making a face at the sugar that assaulted her taste buds. “God, Gen, how much alcohol is _in_ that?”

Genma shot her a wicked grin over the rim of the ridiculous pink umbrella and offered his trademark, carelessly graceful half-shrug. “A fair bit. Aoba demanded we have a ‘party’ before this, quote unquote, ‘all inevitably goes to shit’, and with most of our friends Village-bound, now is probably the best time to actually listen to the idiot.”

Sakura laughed then kicked off her boots and wiggled out of the rest of her overalls till she was just in her ANBU vest and undershorts, slumping even lower on the deckchair, finally content. “Mmhm, nice, just please make sure Aoba doesn’t set any furniture on fire cause he sneezed while channelling chakra again.” She mumbled, delighting in Genma’s bark of startled laughter.

“Please tell him that to his face and let me be there to see his reaction.” He chortled, plucking the little pink umbrella out and tucking it behind his ear. “He needs regular reminders that nobody has forgotten that yet and is unlikely to forget any time soon. If his ego gets any bigger, I might actually have to smother him.”

“I’ll help.” Sakura offered drowsily, inwardly debating shucking her top in favour of turning it into a makeshift pillow. She cracked one eye open to give Genma’s loose, long-sleeved cotton top and all the extra swathes of fabric a once-over and grinned. “I’ll help… _if_ you let me borrow your shirt.” At the brunet’s raised eyebrow, she mustered the effort to reach out a hand and wriggle her fingers in the universal gesture of ‘gimme’. “I wanna nap but the panel is digging into my skull.” She whined, making sure to look extra pitiful. “Besides, your stuff always smells better anyway.”

Genma shot her a severely unimpressed look. “We literally use the _same detergent_.” He deadpanned. When all Sakura did was exaggerate her pout, he sighed. “I _like_ this shirt. I will know if it ends up in your drawer. This is a _loan_. A come-back-to-me shirt. Understood?” but, despite all his grumbling, he obligingly pulled the shirt over his head, somehow not disturbing the little umbrella, and handed it over, smiling fondly when Sakura immediately bundled it up and shoved it under her head, nuzzling the material only slightly. “You are so strange.”

“Takes one to know one.” She mumbled in response, already drifting off into a pleasant doze.

Then Genma shoved the ice cubes that remained of his drink down her collar and she _screamed._

_This meant war._

* * *

That same evening, lying in bed on the brink of sleep, warm with the little alcohol she’d been offered and sated from good food, Sakura drifted off, happy and carefree.

Over the course of the years, Genma’s friends had become _her_ friends as well, so she had enjoyed sitting in the living room with Aoba and Iwashi and Raido and Eri and a woman called Yugao who she had a niggling suspicion was actually ANBU agent Fox. She’d left to go to bed once Aoba passed out and Genma got that ridiculously fond look on his face whenever he glanced at the man, but stayed awake until the noise dwindled down to silence and Genma’s own chakra calmed down with sleep and contentment.

It had been a good day, all in all, and she fell asleep more relaxed than she’d been in weeks.

Then, in the middle of the night, she was startled awake by the sound of shattering glass and a searing pain in her shoulder, and from there, everything devolved into chaos.

Armed, masked figures, at least five of them, swarmed into her room through the – now broken – window that made up most of her wall ( _the only part of the house that isn’t sealed against intruders-!_ ) and in the complete darkness of her room, Sakura was operating on adrenaline and instinct alone.

She drove her bare foot into one of the figures’ solar plexus, channelling enough chakra in the hit to send him crashing back into one of her bookcases, then she ducked under a glint of metal and dodged a strike that would’ve easily cut off her arm if she hadn’t moved. There were no weapons around, no time to get her sealing scrolls, no space for jutsu-! Sakura bit back a cry of pain as a brutal punch dislocated her jaw and set her ears ringing, then she dropped to the ground and rolled, grabbing a kunai from under her bed and shoving it through one of her assailant’s ankle. He crumpled to the ground, off-balance, and Sakura kicked him in the temple hard enough that his skull caved in, shards of bone scratching her heel. Then she scrambled to her feet and lunged for the window, for space and freedom of movement and the light of a streetlamp-!

A hand grabbed at her hair, ripping a few strands free with the force of her momentum, and Sakura whirled, thankful for the length of her hair and the fact that her attacker didn’t have enough time to fist the hair by her skull, reducing the pain and giving her the time to face him, get in his space, rip off his mask, smash the heel of her palm into his nose then dig her thumbs into his eyes until they popped under her nails and he dropped to the ground.  

She rolled under a naginata ( _and really? That was her weapon, damn it!_ ) and darted out of the way of a fireball, then her attention was drawn by the sound of crumbling stone and a shout of pain coming from inside the house.

_Genma._

Her distraction cost her and she earned a searing lash of pain from what looked like a Cat-O’-Nine-Tails ( _where the fuck were they getting these weapons from?!_ ) across her back, so Sakura quickly flashed through the signs for the shunshin, getting distance and an idea of positioning, then threw up an Earth Clone and jumped back towards her three remaining attackers. She waited until her clone’s genjutsu snagged at least one of the shinobi, and when the one closest to her left fumbled his landing, she flash-stepped into his space and plucked a kunai from his holster, stabbing it into his thigh and forcing the knife down and across until it cut the femoral artery. Then she punched him in the solar plexus and didn’t have time to do much else as a barrage of kunai came sailing at her, and she didn’t have time to dodge them all.

Sakura twisted, dodging the majority but still scoring some hits, then she leaped through the fray and at the attacker furthest from her, noting the handsigns for a powerful _fuuton_. She used the stolen kunai to block the instinctive swipe of a tanto, then dropped the kunai to duck under the block and drive her knee into her opponent’s groin, grabbing the tanto from his loosened grip in one hand and his hair in the other, then quickly and decisively cutting his throat.

Then she _screamed_ as a wall of fire soared past her, burning her already injured back and making every movement painful. Sakura saw the ninja she’d kicked into a bookshelf emerging from her broken window, disoriented and probably concussed, and she didn’t think, just coiled her arm back and sent her tanto _spinning,_ chakra making the already well-honed blade deadly sharp. Sharp enough to cut the man clean in two when the spinning blade met his abdomen, stopping only at the barrier of his spinal column.

The last kunoichi was on her before Sakura could so much as gather her bearings, a vicious barrage of taijutsu that Sakura could have never hoped to match, much less unarmed and injured as she was. She felt a fist connect with her gut, fought the urge to vomit, and missed the next kick that sent her tumbling to the ground, scraping uncovered skin on the gravelly road and setting her back aflame with agony.

But the distance bought her time.

Sakura rolled to her knees and flashed through familiar seals, and the kunoichi, distracted for a split-second by her clone’s genjutsu, was a moment too slow to move away as the dirt road rose up to around her thighs, solidified and _squeezed._ The crunch of bones was clearly audible, and Sakura got to her feet and picked up the kunai she’d dropped earlier, ducking under the kunoichi’s weak attempt at a punch and angling the kunai downwards, then stabbing down, aiming for the space not covered by the chest armour, the vulnerable but oh-so-profitable inch of space between the second and third rib.

She drove her kunai through flesh and into the delicate, pulsing muscle that was the kunoichi’s heart, then let go of her knife and left it there. If the shock of the broken legs didn’t knock her out, then the blood loss would, and if _that_ failed, then the trauma from the dislodged or any way moved kunai would do its job.

Exhausted, injured, most likely concussed and shaking from pain and adrenaline, Sakura staggered and blinked black spots out of her vision. Then, she saw a silhouette on the roof of her house, unmasked but decidedly not friendly and _not-Genma,_ and her brain kicked in gear just in time for her to recognise the jutsu a second before the shinobi opened his mouth.

_No-!_

If _Katon: Karyū Endan_ hit their house, it would be little more than kindling, and _Genma was still inside-!_

Not thinking much beyond a heartbroken _nonononononNO!_ Sakura reached for the technique she never used in battle because of the time and sheer volume of chakra it took, but she knew instinctively that in this case, it was the only jutsu in her repertoire capable of matching and overpowering the katon.

_But she didn’t have the time for all 44 seals-!_

She had time for four.

But Sakura knew what the jutsu felt like as the chakra built in her coils, knew what the last stage of the build-up felt like, knew the last four seals by heart and found her fingers already running through them. Her chakra, normally so obedient, roiled and tried to rebel, for once not liking being manhandled into enacting her will, and Sakura knew she was bullying her chakra, which was so used to scalpel-like precision when moulding, into cooperation with all the finesse of a sledgehammer, but this was _important!_

She felt a searing pain along her pathways just as a fire dragon rose up over the shinobi on the roof of her house, but Sakura’s subconscious had had the presence of mind to send her clone to dismantle a fire hydrant a few houses down, and her chakra sought the water source out instinctively, all but singing as it made contact.

And Sakura’s bastardised version of the Water Dragon, her graceless, careless decision to forgo 90% of the necessary handsigns, was still enough.

Even as her chakra coils protested viciously _,_ even as fatigue and agony alike made the noise in her head rise to an ear-shattering crescendo, even as black spots took over more than half her vision, water was still _her element_ , and Sakura still saw a magnificent water dragon rear up behind her, drawing power from her determination, from the water in the hydrant, from the pipes below her, from the very air around her, and from the all the chakra in her coils until there was nothing left.

Her dragon easily dwarfed that of her opponent.

And as they squared up, Sakura didn’t have to look to know whose technique had been stronger, had come out on top. She felt the sudden steam build-up in the air around her, felt the shower of lukewarm water that rained over her as the last of the fire dragon was extinguished. Felt Genma’s chakra, rundown and exhausted but decidedly _alive._

Then, she passed out.

* * *

She came to to the feeling of being rocked, and as she pried her eyes open, she realised she was being carried bridal style, her cheek resting against a rumpled, bloodied sleepshirt. She craned her neck and glanced up, surprised to find that it was Ibiki who was her unlikely saviour. Sans his usual leather trench coat and bandana, in the darkness of the night, the man looked almost approachable, if not for the fearsome scowl on his face.

“Ibiki-senpai?” she croaked, coughing. She felt the man stiffen minutely, but when he glanced down at her, there was a hint of warmth where before there was only cold fury. “What’s going on?”

“The last stand of a desperate traitor.” Ibiki replied, his scowl coming back full force. “I’d prefer to take you to the hospital, but I don’t trust its security.”

It was then that Sakura noted that Ibiki’s cheek was bleeding freely and as much as he tried to hide it to minimise the rocking and any movements that could potentially aggravate her injuries, he was limping.

“Senpai? Were you attacked too?” she asked, balking at the idea of anyone having the sheer _balls_ to attack Ibiki in his own home. When she received a nod, she hummed, then paused. “Why don’t I hurt?”

She recalled having her jaw dislocated, and despite his efforts, simply being carried should’ve set her back screaming in agony. Instead, she was just comfortably warm and numb.

To her surprise, Ibiki smirked wryly. “Because I’m not taking you to the hospital until I can trust it, and I can’t have you dying of neurogenic shock before that.” When all she did was blink confusedly, the smirk became a touch more real. “Morphine, brat.”

“Mm, cool.” She mumbled, turning her head so her cheek wasn’t touching a bloodstain, and closed her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Ibiki snorted. “Shouldn’t that have been your first question?” he asked sarcastically, a shade of the same caring condensation in his voice that Sakura was used to, before he answered. “My house.”

Sakura took a moment to humour the ridiculous thought of ‘yay, sleepover!’, before she let herself pass out once again.

* * *

A dozen of her best jounin stood before her, all varying degrees of battered and bruised, and Tsunade could do little more than run a hand through her hair and sigh tiredly.

The night had seen one of the worst internal attacks since the Uchiha Massacre, and she needed to get to the bottom of it before she could give out orders to deal with the fallout.

And so, the affected had all been called in to her office as soon as the imminent threat had been dealt with, and here she was, at four in the morning, faced with shinobi who hadn’t had time to clean up or change out of their pyjamas, waiting to report.

She waved her hand at the gathered shinobi, looked around, took in Inoichi, Ibiki, Chouza, Shikaku, Genma, Kakashi, and Anko all looking worse for wear, and Gai, Kurenai, Hiashi, Shibi and Tsume looking concerned but nowhere near even half as bad as the former, and sighed.

“Report.” She ordered tiredly.

To her relief, Ibiki stepped up. Seeing the man in a sleepshirt and sweatpants had thrown her at first, because for all she knew her shinobi had lives outside of missions and their occupations, it was still a little surreal to see a man who she knew could rip another human to sherds from within in _pyjamas._

“It appears that anybody involved with Shimura’s trial, whether it be through offering direct testimony or organising the case, was targeted.” He began, and Tsunade frowned at having her theory confirmed. Then he glanced meaningfully at the five jounin and Clan Heads who stood a little away from the other group, then back at Tsunade.

The blonde sighed, and addressed the small group; “What will be discussed here is an S-Rank secret pertaining to the trial of Shimura Danzo. What is said here is not to leave this room until the day of the trial, understood?”

She saw Gai snap to attention, even as Kurenai’s eyes grew wide and her hand fell to her belly almost instinctively, and Tsunade felt a twinge of sympathy when she caught the woman’s gaze. But the kunoichi nodded nonetheless and straightened along with the other four, so Tsunade motioned for Ibiki to continue.

“Myself, Yamanaka and Mitarashi are directly involved in the case. Nara and Shiranui are here because their kids were involved in one of Shimura’s plots, and Haruno has been helping with building the case for the last week.” Tsunade didn’t miss how Kakashi tensed. “I don’t know why Hatake or Akimichi are here, however.”

“Shikamaru has been staying with my family for the last couple of days.” Chouza explained easily, shooting a not particularly subtle glare at Shikaku, who very obviously was refusing to meet his eyes. “I assume someone got wind of it, hence why my house was made a target too.”

Ibiki nodded, even as a few of the shinobi gathered shot curious glances at the two-thirds of the Ino-Shika-Chou threesome – a conflict between someone as easy-going as Chouza and Shikaku was unprecedented.

Then, all eyes turned to Kakashi.

For once without his flak jacket and navy uniform, dressed in simple grey sweats and a black turtleneck – the collar of which was unrolled to cover the bottom half of his face – without his signature slanted hitai-ate and with his hair floppy from sleep and even more dishevelled than usual from the fight, the the Copy-nin looked almost endearingly young, even with the bone-deep weariness that seemed to cling to every line of his body.

Then, he opened his mouth.

“HQ took a hit.” He announced at length, and Tsunade saw the ninja gathered tense.

With the official dissolution of his genin team and with one of his students AWOL, one a traitor, and one quickly becoming one of the best assassins the Village had ever seen, Tsunade decided the man needed a project lest he go insane. So she’d dropped ANBU in his lap, made him work elbow-to-elbow with Bear to oversee the restructuration of the system, aware that the inner workings of the shadow ranks had barely changed since she herself had been a teenager. She was not surprised when, with Kakashi’s keen, genius mind put to something other than killing for the first time in over two and a half decades, the system had seen a massive and unprecedented improvement. And since Bear would sooner be found dead than in the presence of normal jounin without his mask, it fell to Kakashi to represent ANBU in Council meetings or impromptu gatherings like the one currently before her.

But that also meant that, with the new information, the tension in his frame could just as easily be grief, and Tsunade _ached._

“We’ve got a dozen confirmed casualties, at the moment.” He reported, and Tsunade rued the flat, detached voice he’d taken on, even as the shinobi gathered around him winced in sympathy. “They hit us fast and hard; about twenty stormed HQ while half dozen went for the Records Office. They wanted agent files and mission records, and I-” Kakashi broke off, then tried again. “Bear-sama didn’t–” there was a slight movement, and Tsunade saw Shiranui rest a hand on Kakashi’s shoulder, and saw how the Copy-nin shuddered at the touch. “Bear-sama didn’t make it.” He said at last, and Tsunade noted a flicker of grief flash through Genma’s eyes too. Bear had been a legend in ANBU, rumoured to have started as ANBU General at the same time as the Sakumo started to be known as the White Fang and not Hatake Sakumo – the man was basically immortal, as far as shinobi life expectancy went. And for all that they never saw his face, he must’ve been the one to recruit Genma and Kakashi into the shadow ranks all those years ago. She could understand their grief, yet all it did was strengthen her desire to see Danzo’s head roll.

“Thank you.” She said, acknowledging Kakashi’s pain, and added, more than a little regretfully, “I’ll need you, later, for identification, so their families can be notified.” Kakashi nodded stiffly, and Tsunade watched as Genma bent down and murmured something in his ear, getting another jerky nod from the Copy-nin. Tsunade turned to the others. “Any other ca- injuries?”

“Yoshino’s in the hospital with a broken arm.” Shikaku offered, his voice oddly tight.

“Chouji’s got mild chakra exhaustion and Shikamaru-kun twisted his ankle, but other than that, no.” Chouza added, adamantly refusing to look at his friend.

“Ino’s a little shaken, but she went to stay with your female student, Gai.” Inoichi said, flashing the taijutsu master a small smile and getting a thumbs-up in return.

“Haruno’s pretty beaten up and will need medical attention, but I’ve got her doped up till we can be sure the hospital is secure. She’s also got a case of chakra depletion.” Ibiki said gruffly, drawing alarmed looks from Genma and Anko.

Tsunade, however, was aghast. “ _Depletion_?” she demanded, pinning the interrogator in place with a glare that said ‘explain. now.’

Ibiki frowned. “That water dragon was hers.” He said bluntly, causing some eyes to widen.

“I thought that was yours, Kakashi.” Kurenai admitted, sending the Copy-nin a considering look. “No one else knows it or has the chakra…”

But Kakashi was frowning, his earlier grief replaced by confusion. “That jutsu requires forty-four hand signs.” He said at last, and Ibiki scowled freely.

“The kid used four.”

At that, Genma groaned and nudged Kakashi until the man shuffled over, and collapsed on the sofa beside him, an arm thrown dramatically over his eyes. “I’m gonna get a heart attack before I’m thirty five.” He grumbled, and Hatake snorted, something in his posture easing.

“If she indeed skipped ninety percent of the seals required,” Hiashi began, speaking for the first time since he entered the room, “then it is likely she seared or burned through her chakra pathways. Nobody has the control necessary to pull a stunt like that and avoid damage.”

“Control is not what you should be worried about.” Genma said frankly, sitting up. “The kid has that it spades. What she lacks is volume. She’s probably scraped her reserves raw.” Then, he looked at Tsunade, and inclined his head. “Tsunade-sama, permission to take Hiashi-san and check on my partner?” he asked cordially, despite looking ragged and rocking a set of fantastically broken fingers and an amalgamation of bruises.

“Granted. Get out of here.” Tsunade shooed, then turned to the rest of the group. “Anybody not directly involved in Shimura’s trial, dismissed. Thank you for your service tonight.”

And she watched as half the group filtered out, leaving only Inoichi, Ibiki, Anko, Shikaku and Kakashi.

“This is a customary warning I thought might be important to give you. We received intelligence that Akatsuki and Orochimaru are planning two separate attacks on the Village. In return for the intel, I granted the informant permission to testify during the trial.” Tsunade watched the alarm turn into confusion and in some parts wariness. Then, she flared her chakra.

“Gentelmen, Mitarashi,” she began, as a shadow appeared on her window sill, and gracefully slipped inside, shutting the window beside himself, “do not be alarmed.”

The genjutsu dropped, and Itachi Uchiha stood in her office.

* * *

The world was ending.

It had turned completely on its head, and all that Jiraiya was sure of was that he was no longer sure of anything.

A traitor to the Village had been found, brought back, tried and sentenced accordingly.

Shimura Danzo, a man so smarmy even Jiraiya with his ear always to the ground had had trouble pinning down anything conclusive, now stood to spend the rest of his days in a cell or face imminent execution.

The Academy curriculum was changing, not to produce child-soldiers, or to enforce the indoctrination, but to teach about other nations, about the history of their land rather than just of their Village. Age-old prejudices were being gradually exterminated like stubborn weeds, and Jiraiya could do little more than gape.

The Nidaime’s, and later Minato’s _Hiraishin_ had been revived, brought back into use by a man so _un_ extraordinary Jiraiya had done a doubletake when Tsunade told him because _what?_

And Hatake, who had been living and breathing war and death and loss before his face had lost the last vestiges of baby fat; Hatake, for whom his sensei’s, his mentor’s, Jiraiya’s most prized student’s death had been his undoing, the final injustice to push him over the edge – that same man had been saddled with an administrative job. And from what Tsunade had told him, he was _flourishing,_ bringing down the mortality rate in the shadow ranks to under 20%, half of what it had ever been at its lowest.

And now, the icing on the cake, the cherry on top, Itachi Uchiha had come to Tsunade’s office, calm as may be. The man who had sacrificed everything for his Village – his best friend, his family, his reputation, his brother’s mental health – now stood in front of Jiraiya, his handler of the last decade, and the last of the Senju, saying that the Village had failed him, failed his brother, that the Sandaime had not managed to keep the one promise Itachi had asked of him. And Jiraiya couldn’t disagree.

The news that his old teammate was planning an attack on the Village in retribution for taking the Uchiha was almost enough to blindside Jiraiya, but not quite as much that the knowledge that at least part of his insanity, of his bloodthirstiness, could be attributed to the supposed existence of Shimura’s seal on him.

The news that shinobi who Jiraiya had once helped raise, whom he had taught everything he’d known about their world and how to survive in it, had gone on to form the most notorious criminal organisations in the history of the shinobi nations _burned._

“What are you going to do, hime?” he asked at last, keeping half an eye on Itachi even as he moved to comfort the clearly weary blonde.

Tsunade sighed, and even the glamour she hid behind couldn’t fully mask how tired she was. “We need help. Konoha needs its allies.” She turned to the Uchiha, and her glare was still sharp, but not quite as deadly as when he had first appeared in her office over five hours ago.

Hearing what his loyalty had done to him had touched even Tsunade’s shuttered heart.

“Hide, Uchiha.” And then, she dropped the wards and flared her chakra, one of her chunin aides materialising in front of her desk not a second later.

“Godaime-sama?”

“Fetch me Haruno and Shikamaru Nara.” Tsunade ordered, and the man nodded and disappeared in a burst of smoke and leaves. “Will that genjutsu of yours hold, Uchiha?” she addressed the space where Itachi had once stood, curious.

“Yes.” Came a disembodied voice from nearby the window. “It is aided by my doujutsu and virtually undetectable. My presence will not be known.”

Tsunade bared her teeth in a smile, but it was not friendly. “Let’s hope.”

 

* * *

 Jiraiya watched the two diplomats walk into Tsunade’s office, his keen gaze cataloguing the differences between them. The girl was tired, that much was clear; the kind of bone-deep weariness that was a step away from permanent exhaustion and apathy, and with the stunt Tsunade had told him she’d pulled, he was half surprised she was even walking. The Nara, however, looked wary. His expression was guarded instead of just hidden behind the usual lazy façade of the Nara, and his sharp eyes were flickering between the two Sannin, wondering what could’ve called for such a spontaneous summon.

Tsunade began without preamble. “We received intel that Orochimaru is gathering forces to strike at Konoha once again. The Akatsuki is also preparing to launch an offensive.” She stated flatly, and Jiraiya watched the teens before him, expectant. Haruno’s placid expression didn’t change save for a small, downward quirk of her lip, and while the Nara snapped to attention, there was still not as much alarm in his eyes as the announcement deserved.

The duo exchanged a meaningful look, one that seemed to hold an entire conversation, before the rosette arched an eyebrow and the Nara frowned, turning to the Godaime.

“ETA?” he asked, short and to the point, and Jiraiya felt something in him go cold.

Curiously, Tsunade answered, “Two weeks. Maybe three.”

The frown on Haruno’s face deepened. “That’s earlier than we expected.” She murmured, and Jiraiya’s mind stalled. _What?_

The teen beside her sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Why are your genin teammates such pests?” he asked rhetorically, and this time, Jiraiya’s mouth ran ahead of his mind, and-!

“ _What?_ ”

Haruno’s gaze flickered to him and he noticed for the first time that there was more than just fatigue in her eyes – there was distance, a chilling emptiness.

“We assumed Orochimaru is coming for the Uchiha, and the Akatsuki for Uzumaki.” She explained, her gaze still trained on him. “Both were once my teammates.”

“You assumed correctly.” Tsunade said simply, “Which is why you and Nara are being sent to gather reinforcements. One of the terms of the three-way alliance was aid in times of need. This is Konoha in need, requesting aid. I will not simply hand over Naruto, nor the Uchiha, despite how much of a thorn in my side he has been.”

 _You’d risk the devastation of this Village instead._ Nara’s expression seemed to say, his eyes accusatory, but it was Haruno who spoke, some of the emptiness abating, replaced instead by sharp calculation.

“Mei will assist with the Akatsuki, but her daimyō signed a non-aggression pact with Orochimaru when he was first establishing Sound.” The girl said, and Jiraiya had a feeling she was only just starting, “Well,” she corrected, shrugging, “theoretically, Sound’s daimyō signed it, but the man is basically Orochimaru’s puppet, so…” she left the statement hanging.

The Nara picked up, “Suna will be more receptive. Akatsuki almost killed their Kazekage, after all. And Orochimaru is the reason they went into this alliance in the first place.” He reasoned, but the rosette’s frown didn’t fade.

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Haruno replied cryptically, and when the Nara raised an eyebrow, she sighed. “The Akatsuki is responsible for the deaths of _three_ of Suna’s Kazekage, not one.” She said, and at this point Jiraiya would _really_ like to know where she got her information from. “Akasuna no Sasori – the puppetmaster – killed the Sandaime and turned him into one of his puppets after he defected. The Yondaime was killed by Orochimaru sometime before the Chunin Exams. Orochimaru was once a member of Akatsuki himself, remember? And Gaara _was_ dead. Chiyo brought him back but he was dead, Shika. When the most powerful ninja in your Village are killed not once but _thrice_ by the same organisation, you’re unlikely to go seeking conflict with them.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone parsed through what the girl had said.

“Well,” The Nara allowed with a small smirk. “I could always insult Temari again. That should do it.”

His partner snorted and shook her head in exasperation, but didn’t refute the suggestion.

When Jiraiya glanced at Tsunade, there was clear fatigue writ into the line of her shoulders and the wrinkle in her brow, but there was also pride and a hint of satisfaction. _She knew,_ he realised, _she knew they’d know. She_ expected _it._

“Then you know what you’ll be up against.” Tsunade said at last. “I don’t think I need to remind you that the stakes are high. But your Village needs you to at least try.”

“Hai, Hokage-sama.” They chorused, and Tsunade offered them a small smile.

“Then you leave tomorrow morning. Haruno, I’ll send Shiranui after you once he finishes the chakra seals. Dismissed.”

With a short bow, the two turned on their heels and walked out of the office.

* * *

Itachi waited until he could no longer sense the duo’s chakra before he dropped the illusion, a tiny frown marring his brow.

_Did she know?_

The girl had looked at the exact place he was standing. Twice. He’d seen the minute twitch of her fingers, even with her hands at her sides as they were, the seal for ‘kai’ was distinctive. He didn’t feel the shift of chakra that signified a broken genjutsu, but just the notion that the girl had known there was something hidden from her senses was enough to cause mild unease; his illusions were Sharingan-cast; nothing but another Sharingan should be able to notice them.

When he turned to the two Sannin, Tsunade seemed distinctly aware of his discomfort, if the smirk on her face was any indication. “Now, what do you want as payment for the warning?” the Godaime asked, forever blunt, as if deals with universally-acknowledged missing-nin were an every-day occurrence.

Such an open-ended offer, too. Itachi could demand many things and have them be within the tenuous terms the Hokage had set.

But when he thought about it, he knew what he wanted.

“I want three files.” He said quietly. “One on my brother’s trial, one on the shinobi that brought my brother to the Village, and one on the kunoichi that just left.”

The shock on the Sannin’s face was clear – it seemed they too had been expecting something outlandish. For the first time since the discussion began, there was hesitation in Tsunade’s expression.

But a deal was a deal, and he watched as she reached into the drawer of her desk and pulled out two manila files, one considerably thicker than the other. Itachi waited for her to produce the third one, but when the woman merely raised an eyebrow and waved the files at him, he stepped forward and cautiously took the ones offered.

Itachi slipped his brother’s case file into the inner pocket of a jacket he’d stolen, then looked down at the remaining file in his hands, eyes immediately drawn to the photograph in the top left corner.

_That was the same-!_

His eyes slid from the paper to the Godaime, but she was keeping her expression carefully blank. To think, that he’d had the very person he wanted information on not two metres from him right in front of his face… (He briefly wondered whether the ability to blindside Uchiha was genetic.)

Moving on from the fact that he had the very girl in the room with him not five minutes ago, he focused on the file itself.

 _Haruno Shiranui Sakura_  
Clan: N/A (Civilian) Parents deceased; Shiranui (guardianship)  
Birthday: 28 th March   
Age: 16  
Rank: Jounin  
Partner: Shiranui Genma  
Academy Graduation: 12  
Chunin Promotion: 12  
Tokubetsu Jounin Promotion: 14  
Jounin Promotion: 15  
Notable skills: Genjutsu, Bukijutsu, Ninjutsu: Elemental Manipulation (Earth & Water); Medical Ninjutsu, Fuinjutsu  
Affiliation: Konohakagure, Team 7 (disbanded), Twenty Platoons, Kirigakure (citizenship), Sunagakure (citizenship)  
Other: Ambassador to Kirigakure no Sato, Ambassador to Sunagakure no Sato, Torture and Interrogation Operative: Senior Interrogator: Level IV, Ansatsu Senjutsu Tokushu Butai Operator: (Jackal), Credited with the elimination of Deidara of the Akatsuki  
Confirmed Completed Mission Count: 251: 80 D-Rank, 72 C-Rank, 61 B-Rank, 37 A-Rank, 1 S-Rank   
Confirmed Kill Count: 600+

That was a high number of missions.

Itachi’s old record, on the night of his defection, had boasted 340 completed missions, after almost eight years of service. For the girl to have done well over 70% of that number, in half the time was… just the numerical evidence was starting to show him how his brother had been beaten so easily.

He flicked through the mission summaries, reports, Bingo Book entries – _only her rank, age, and position as Ambassador, no mention of her kill count, mission count, methods, even notable skills, despite multiple mission reports of high importance kills, confirmed sabotage, mass assassinations; just like a ghost, no visible trail or link-! –_ and skill assessments for the Jounin, then moved on to the ANBU section.

There was a clear dichotomy; Jounin Haruno operated best in a two-man squad with a man Itachi remembered from his own ANBU days, tag-teaming targets and utilising their individual skills to their best, showing a mix of genjutsu and elemental manipulation on missions, and never, ever, letting a target escape. ANBU Jackal was a throwback to the tales of Bloody Mist, with a preference for masterfully-executed Silent Kill and bukijutsu, always operating under the cover of genjutsu or Hidden Mist techniques she had no real right to know, ruthless and efficient and leaving no trail.

It was not the file of a child raised in times of peace.

He read through the notes on her loyalty and personality, read the Yamanaka’s patient file, saw the mention of her friendship with one of the Seven, with the Kazekage and his Honoured Sister, saw the report of friendly acquaintance with the Mizukage and a partnership with the Nara heir, read the frequent accounts of prolonged stays in one of the allied countries.

Then, Itachi paused. Took a deep, discrete breath, and assembled together the basic facts. 

Civilian. Put on a team with a legend, a monster, and a self-proclaimed avenger turned traitor. Ordinary. Weak. Unlikely to make chunin. Then, chunin. T&I Interrogator. Ambassador. Tokujo. ANBU. Jounin. Well-rounded, well-connected, loyal, even when her teammates weren’t. Self-made in every sense of the word.

Then, he looked at what he could read between the lines.

Ambitious. Ruthless. Resourceful. Resilient. Intelligent. Prodigious. Cunning. Charismatic.

Itachi had been a prodigy, but he had been the heir of a noble Clan. It had been expected of him. He’d had tutors and trainers and people watching him 24/7, making sure he never faltered, never fell since he was three years old. Then he had to be the best to survive, to live till his brother was strong enough to take him and _win,_ and that meant outsmarting Kage and hunter-nin and bounty-hunters alike, till he could lay down and let his own blood kill him, giving him his final closure, his repentance, his rest.

Hatake Kakashi had been a prodigy, but he’d had a father who had a legend of his own, the White Fang, a man who could’ve stood for Hokage had he lived. Then had the Yondaime as his teacher, and received a gift that raised him even above the legend of his father in a way that no amount of training could’ve done, but he’d been broken; jagged and bleeding and self-destructive and unpredictable, to the point of being forcibly pulled from ANBU in fear of another Itachi.

There was one comparison Itachi’s mind could draw, only one that really fit, but he didn’t want to give voice to his thoughts. _Self-made, only one of three to remain loyal, genius, genjutsu-specialising, morally-ambiguous, ruthless and resilient and determined and charismatic and willing to sacrifice the many for the wellbeing of the few-!_

He slowly closed the file, falling back into himself, into the role, the mask, the apathy. He knew his expression hadn’t changed once, even as he slowly moved towards Tsunade’s desk and gently placed the file on the pile of paperwork.

He stepped back, raising his eyes to meet the curious gaze of the Godaime. “Thoughts?” she asked him absently.

Itachi mulled over his answer, keeping his expression carefully blank. Then, he decided that he wasn’t there to humour the Godaime, so he offered a small shrug and a ‘hn’, noting how the blonde scowled.

What he could have asked, was well within reason to ask, was ‘ _Is she interested in blood limits?_ ’ but the truth was that he genuinely _didn’t care._

True, his brother’s generation was born in peace-time. They were granted childhoods, years of softness and indulgence. There should’ve been no way for him to draw parallels between any one of them and a shinobi who had lived and breathed conflict since they could hold a kunai, who had been war-born and death-forged.

And yet, he had.

But that didn’t make it his business, so he reigned himself back and waited until they got back to planning Shimura’s takedown. This, this he could do.

* * *

The next morning, she walked to the gates alongside Shikamaru, both with packs slung across their backs and dressed for the weather of the country they were heading to. She’d caught up with her friend once they’d been dismissed from Tsunade’s office, and her heart had ached when Shikamaru caught her up on what had happened while she’d been working out how to pin down a man whose mere reputation could quash her like a fly with its little finger.

She’d pulled him into a hug, too choked up to speak, and just waited until the burn of tears went away. When she pulled away, she decided to forgo empty platitudes and offered a wobbly smile instead. “I’m sure Genma wouldn’t mind another stray. You already have your own drawer, we could as well make it official.”

And Shikamaru had laughed and seemed surprised, as if she’d startled it out of him. “You’re the second person who’s offered to adopt me.”

And that had been that; at least out loud. Inwardly, Sakura added Shikaku to her personal shitlist.

They walked to the gates in companionable silence and travelled the first ten miles away from the Village together, then split with a last parting hug and murmured wishes of good luck. Both knew that the next time they saw each other, their Village could be under attack.

Sakura travelled in silence, the normally relaxing journey oddly discomfiting, not only because she missed having a presence at her side, but also because she couldn’t use her chakra to sense her surroundings. Her channels had been overloaded and had dilated as a result, according to Tsunade – she would struggle with more complex jutsu and chakra sensing until they shrunk back to the original size. Then the Godaime had laughed and said that Sakura would get a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see what people with subpar chakra control dealt with every day.

Sakura already hated it.

“Wow, pinky-chan, did someone get up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or what?”

Sakura jumped and let out an ungainly shriek, whirling and unsheathing her daito and brandishing it at the disembodied voice in one smooth movement, her heart hammering a hundred miles a minute.

Then, her eyes lit up and she beamed.

“Yuki-san!”

**Author's Note:**

> this is an experiment in writing and patience - I have read a lot of strong!Sakura fics which just kinda jump from Pathetic to Prodigious and I decided to make one which kinda details that progress a bit better but isn't mind-numbingly boring. We'll see if that works out ;) Feel free to comment!


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